War Stories
by Jefinner
Summary: 5 years after Sirius' 'death', Hermione finds a way to bring him back. The war was won 2 years ago and now the others have to fill Sirius in on what he's missed. Less boring than it sounds: Pairings undecided, except RonLuna and LupinTonks.
1. The Attempt

Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter story. I would greatly appreciate any comments, opinions or suggestions anyone may have. I should warn you that the first few chapters are big with dialogue, meant to lay the ground work. Please bare with me; I think it gets better, everything will be explained, and hopefully you won't be disappointed.

Disclaimer: I am not a successful professional Author worth millions, so obviously I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters therein. Also, I have little, or no imagination of my own, and so have shamelessly used ideas, and occational quotes, from many of my favourite TV shows and movies. This fic should therefore be viewed as a sort of tribute to people much smarter and more creative than myself, and that is in no way intended to infringe on anyones rights or property.

War Stories

_**Prologue **The attempt_

Hermione Granger and her friend, and fellow Unspeakable, Luke Anderson, stood before the Veil in the infamous Death Chamber, deep within the Department of Mysteries. They were about to try a procedure that Hermione had developed to rescue Sirius Black from behind the Veil that, until recently, everyone had believed lead directly to death.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Luke asked, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "Because we could do further testing," he added hopefully.

"We have already done exhaustive testing," Hermione replied patiently. Having been surrounded with overprotective boys (ie, Harry and the Weasleys) since she was twelve, she was used to this attitude. "We can't do anything else. The process is as safe as we can make it – there is nothing left to do now but to make this attempt."

Luke sighed. He knew she was right, he just wished that this 'attempt' didn't involve so much risk to Hermione. He had never personally known Sirius Black. Like everyone else, Luke had believed him to be a mass murderer escapee from Azkaban until Peter Pettigrew was captured during the Final Battle of the war, proving Black's innocence. So really, saving the man was a matter of almost complete indifference to Luke. But he knew that Hermione had known and cared about the former fugitive – that is what inspired the 'Veil Project' to start with. Consequentially, he knew that further argument or stalling would be useless.

"Well, you'd best get going then," he said with false cheer, before giving his friend and co-worker a hug.

"Just remember not to panic if I'm gone a while. Only tell Harry and Ron if we pass the three month mark, and don't you dare try and send anyone through after me," Hermione ordered sternly. "You know about the difference in the rate of time there. I'll find a way back; it isn't as though I'll be getting any older." She smiled.

"Right," was all that Luke could think of to say as he stepped off of the dais, giving Hermione room to perform the required spells on herself. "Good luck," he added.

Hermione smiled her thanks before closing her eyes. She stood directly in front of the Veil with her hands held palm to palm before her as though she was preying, but with her wand held between them, pointed at herself. She took several slow, deep breaths, then began whispering the incantations that she had written for this very purpose.

It took about half an hour of doing this before her words finally took effect. A shimmering silver mist slowly grew from the wand tip, enveloping Hermione until she was surrounded by it's gentle glow. She stood still for a moment before opening her eyes and stepping forward without hesitation, right through the Veil.

Luke closed his eyes, letting out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding. All he could do now, was wait.

AN: Questions? Comments? ... I hear crickets :)


	2. Lost and Found

Author's Note: Wow! Thanks to the following people for their great reviews: Charlirox, Annapendragon, Reborn-Dragon I'll do my best :) , and HPHGplusNALEYlover. You guys really made my day. I still haven't decided on pairings yet; I'm open to any suggestions, though I think I'm leaning towards HHr. At this point even I'm going to have to wait and see :)

Also thanks to my beta AKA 'Mum'.

Disclaimer: Refer to Prologue, 'cause it's long and I'm lazy :)

War Stories

_**Chapter 1 **Lost and Found_

Hermione looked around, finding herself exactly where she had planned and expected to be. She was in a small stone cell, identical to those found in the Azkaban Fortress.

"Sirius?"

A black clad figure with shaggy black hair, standing in the middle the cell, spun suddenly to face her.

"Hermione?" Sirius squinted.

Hermione knew that the mist surrounding her obscured her features slightly. Sirius had had to guess who she was based on a fuzzy image, and her voice.

"Yes, Sirius. It's me."

"Hermione, what the hell is going on? One minute I'm duelling Bella, and the next, I'm here. It looks like Azkaban, but I don't think it is. What happened? Did you follow me? Where's Harry? Is he alright? Did the Death Eaters get what they were after?" Sirius had said all of this very fast, but fell silent as Hermione raised her hand to stop the frantic interrogation.

"Listen, Sirius. I'm afraid we don't have much time. Harry is fine, but I'm sure he's missing us, so we need to get out of here. Take my hand Sirius; I'll lead you back." Hermione wished she could answer all of his questions, but she was already feeling the drain of using such powerful magic.

Sirius really wanted an explanation, but something in Hermione's voice told him that it was important that he co-operate. Everything that he had been through in his life had not exactly left Sirius with a trusting nature, but as he looked around at the cell he had suddenly found himself in not too long ago, and took in again how similar it was to his cell in Azkaban, he decided that anything was better than staying here. He reached forward and took Hermione's hand.

Nothing happened for a moment. Then the strange mist that surrounded Hermione began to expand, to envelope Sirius as well. He felt an odd, tingling warmth as the shimmering substance spread over his skin. When the mist was completely surrounding them both, Hermione turned and led him in the direction from which she had come. Instead of the stone wall that had been there only a minute before, there was now a stone arch with a veil, like the one in the Department of Mysteries, where Sirius had been duelling his cousin. As they moved towards it, something teased at the back of Sirius' mind, telling him that he should stay away from that veil.

"Ignore it," Hermione said briskly, as though she had read his mind. "We're going home."

Sirius hesitated slightly, then nodded and allowed Hermione to lead him through the veil.

A moment later they emerged, still hand in hand, on the other side of the Veil in the 'Death Chamber', in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius tensed, bracing himself to re-enter the battle that had been raging the last time he had been in this room, but a quick glance around told him that this was unnecessary. The room was deserted accept for a lone man – perhaps in his early twenties – sitting at what appeared to be a make-shift desk facing the Veil.

The man seemed not to have noticed their arrival. Sirius felt something like a cool breeze. It turned out to be the shimmering mist receding. He looked at Hermione beside him, and saw that the mist was gone from around her as well. Sirius frowned a little, thinking that she looked different from what he remembered; older somehow. But maybe it was just a trick of the dim light. She gave him a tired, but reassuring smile, then turned to the man at the desk.

"Wake up, Colin," she said.

The man's head snapped up and his eyes widened when he saw them. He quickly slammed his hand down on the desk, causing a series of high-pitched beeps and wails to sound, then he got up and all but ran towards them, a panicked look on his face.

Sirius thought fleetingly that if anyone here should look panicked, it should be himself. He was the one who was most likely about to be arrested, after all. But then he felt Hermione's hand slip from his and he turned just in time to catch her as she collapsed.

A/N: Reviewing is fun; it's what all the cool kids are doing :)


	3. Reunion and Exposition

Author's Note: Well, here's the next bit. It's a little longer, and mostly people talking. Sorry about the wait, I hope you'll think it's worth it. Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read this and a big thanks to my reveiwers, everyone has been so nice. To answer one of your questions, Collin from behind the desk probably is Collin Creevey, but while he will be mentioned in the recounting of the war, I don't know if he'll make an appearance in the present.

Disclaimer: I own depressingly little, and nothing at all relating to Harry Potter, or anything else in this story that you might recognise from elsewhere.

War Stories

_**Chapter 2 **Reunion and Exposition_

Luke stood up to greet two of Britain's most famous war heroes as they entered his office.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. Thank you both for responding so promptly to my message." He held out his hand.

Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley shook it, albeit rather reluctantly. Neither man particularly liked Luke, Hermione's friend and co-worker or not. The reason for this was simple; Luke had not fought in the war. He had been an able bodied, educated, of-age wizard, who could have contributed to whichever side he chose to support. But instead, while others fought and died, he had remained on the fence, watching and waiting to see who would win. He finally joined the side of Light just after Voldemort's destruction, and only helped to round up what was left of the Death Eaters when victory was assured. Having both given and lost so much for the war effort, Harry and Ron had no time for Luke's sort of selfish cowardice. They wondered how Hermione put up with him.

"You said this was regarding Hermione, who has been missing for almost a month now. Of cause we 'responded promptly'," Ron said curtly. The redhead had actually learned some tact and diplomacy in the years of and after the war, but he was worried for his friend, and so didn't feel like using it right then.

"Yes, well." Luke cleared his throat. He knew that these two powerful, battle hardened wizards, didn't like him. He'd have to handle this carefully. "Right," he started again. "If you'll both have a seat, I'll try to explain recent developments. But first things first; Hermione is here, and she's alright," he assured, trying to placate them.

It seemed to work. Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and relaxed slightly, relieved. Then they looked back at Luke, and he saw that he still wasn't completely out of the woods.

"Where was she? What happened to her?" Harry's tone was low and calm, but demanded answers nonetheless.

"Well, that's rather a long story." Luke had sat down, and began to explain. "As you may, or may not know, as well as her assigned work, Hermione has been running an investigation on the side. The specifics of this investigation, even its name, have remained secret from almost everyone. Hermione was particularly concerned that the aim of her work be kept from the two of you." At their narrowed eyes, Luke hurriedly continued. "I believe she did not wish for you to be disappointed in the event that the experiment was a failure. The investigation is – or was, since it is now complete – called the 'Veil Project', and its goal was to retrieve Sirius Black, who was thought to be lost to the Veil in the skirmish that marked the start of the war."

"She was trying to get Sirius back?" Ron asked in shock. Harry's eyes had widened.

"Yes. You see, as it turns out, the Ministry has long misunderstood the Veil's true function. While studying the runes and symbols on the arch and the dais it stands on, Hermione found what she believed to be…" Luke trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry. Hermione would have my head if she knew what a mess I was making of this. Mr. Black really should be here; he'll no doubt want to hear this, too."

Both Harry and Ron's mouths fell open. "She actually did it? Sirius is back?" Harry's voice was barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid he had heard wrong.

"Yes, he's back. Please wait here a moment; I'll go and get him." With that, Luke got up and hurried from the office.

Ron sat in his chair looking shell-shocked. Harry's face had smoothed into an impassive mask. Regardless of what Luke said, he didn't dare to believe any of this (perhaps because it had been Luke who said it) until he saw Sirius for himself. The mask shattered however the moment he heard the dearly missed voice exclaim from the doorway.

"Harry!"

Harry and Ron leapt from their seats and spun towards the door, before Harry fairly flew across the room to hug his godfather. It happened so fast that Sirius didn't get a good look at anything before he was engulfed in Harry's surprisingly strong arms.

"Merlin, Harry, are you alright? What happened? They told me I've been gone for five years!"

The pair pulled apart and Sirius held Harry's head between his hands, inspecting him carefully. He saw, instead of the skinny boy of fifteen that he remembered, a strong looking young man, of a similar height to himself. Harry still had the same messy black hair hiding his famous scar, the same pale skin, and the same emerald-green eyes, but all of it was slightly different than before; the hair was a little longer, the skin was marred by more scars – a thin one running across, just below his left cheekbone, and another, larger one, running from behind his right ear, down the side of his neck and disappearing under the throat of his robes – and his eyes…Sirius liked the change in his eyes the least of all. Harry's eyes had always held subtle shadows of long suffering (accept when he was a baby), but now those shadows had deepened so that they could still be seen even past the obvious happiness and relief he felt at having his godfather back. Sirius smiled sadly, realising that some of those shadows were due to his absence.

"It's really great to see you again, Sirius. I missed you," Harry said quietly. He was beginning to feel a little self-conscious under the older man's continued scrutiny.

"Yeah, it's great to see you, too." Sirius finally managed to tear his eyes away from the son he'd never had, and they landed on a grinning Ron standing a few feet away.

Sirius blinked in shock. The differences in Ron were even more noticeable. He, too, was taller (unsurprisingly) and his Weasley red hair had been allowed to grow so that it now brushed his shoulders. But what really stood out were a long scar that sliced diagonally across his lips, and a black eye-patch over his right eye, peeking out the side of which, was just the pink edge of what looked to be a burn scar.

Ron's grin changed into a rueful smile as he noticed where Sirius' eyes lingered. Maybe a couple of years ago, he would have been made uncomfortable by the man's reaction, but that was before Luna.

"Old war wounds," he said good-naturedly, with a vague hand gesture towards his face. "We've all got 'em." Then he stepped forward and shook Sirius' hand warmly. "Welcome back."

Sirius smiled gratefully, glad that Ron hadn't taken his staring personally.

"Ahem."

The three reunited wizards turned towards the polite noise, each having forgotten that Luke was still in the room. But then, thought Sirius, if he'd had any sensibility at all, he wouldn't be.

"Sorry to interrupt." He said, sounding more bored and impatient, than sorry. "But I'm sure you're all still wondering about how it is that Mr. Black came to be here. Why don't we all take a seat again and I'll explain."

Sirius' eyebrows rose slightly when he saw Harry and Ron both gaze coldly at Luke as they sat down. He had to admit that he didn't like the man either, but he wondered what was behind the obvious hostility from his godson and his friend. He decided to file the question away with the thousands of others, to be asked later.

"Hang on. If Hermione is the one who managed this, then why isn't she here explaining it to us?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Hermione is sick," Sirius answered unexpectedly. "She came through the Veil to get me. She led me back out, then just collapsed. A medi-wizard team took her away and nobody would tell me anything about it after that." Harry, Ron and Sirius were all frowning at Luke now.

Luke sighed, realising he wouldn't get anywhere with his explanation until they knew Hermione's exact condition. He didn't really know why he hadn't just told them about that first; maybe he simply enjoyed knowing something about her that they didn't.

"Hermione should be fine. She is suffering from a simple – if extreme – case of physical and magical exhaustion. You will understand why after we've gone over everything," he said pointedly, trying to bring them back to the topic at hand. He honestly didn't know how Hermione could be friends with people who were so unfocused.

"Fine," Ron said, glad that his friend would recover. Then he smiled with obviously fake amiability at Luke, saying, "See, that's all you had to say. Now, we're all ears."

Luke glared at Ron, but didn't answer. Instead he addressed all three men.

"Right, as I was saying before, Hermione has been running the 'Veil Project' on the side for over a year; almost since she first started in our department. She was studying the runes and symbols on the arch and around the dais of the Veil, comparing her own translations and analysis to the research previously done on the artefact and found a discrepancy. She came to believe that the writings pertaining to the function and purpose of the Veil had long been misinterpreted. You see, many years ago, before the Azkaban Fortress was converted into a prison and the Dementors installed as guards, the Veil was used to 'dispose'-" Luke made quote marks with his fingers "- of convicts. That was the direct translation; 'dispose'. Everyone took the word 'dispose' to mean that convicts were executed using the Veil, and that it must therefore be a doorway to death.

"Hermione could go into the details for you far better than I, but basically, she discovered that the Veil _is_ a doorway, not to death as everyone assumed, but to another place; another dimension, separate from our reality. With a great deal of work, Hermione was able to piece together that the Veil's creation was actually accidental; the doorway was somehow made and whomever went through it was transported to another dimension where their worst fears became their reality, and, relatively speaking, time almost stops."

"That's why that place looked like my cell in Azkaban," Sirius interrupted. "And how 5 years could have passed here, while for me it only seemed like an hour or so." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Luke answered anyway. "The creators of the Veil didn't know how it worked or why, but without fail the other dimension became the place that the individual experiencing it most dreaded. That's why they turned it into a prison, to 'dispose' of convicts; they could think of no other use. Anyway, once Hermione knew what the Veil really was and what it did, she began to devise a way to retrieve Mr. Black." Luke nodded in Sirius' direction. "Any questions so far?"

"How did you guys – or the creators for that matter - know what was on the other side of the Veil?" Ron asked, frowning in contemplation. "I thought nobody ever came back – present company excluded, Sirius. Isn't that why people think everyone who goes through is dead?"

"To be honest, I really don't know the specifics. Almost all of the spells and potions that Hermione used for this project were developed by her. While she kept very detailed notes, and tried to explain her processes to others in this department, very few were able to grasp the intricacies of her work, and nobody has been able to reproduce it."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and smiled slightly, nodding in understanding. They knew better than anyone how difficult it was at times to follow Hermione's dizzying intellect. Sirius, who hadn't really known Hermione very well before his 'death', just smiled at the boys' reaction.

"As I was saying," Luke resumed after a moment. "Hermione began devising ways to retrieve someone lost through the Veil. The major obstacle that she encountered was the fact that the doorway seemed to incorporate a powerful resistance against people coming back through." Luke paused, seeing Sirius nodding his head as though he had just heard the explanation to something he had been wondering about.

Noticing the silence, and the enquiring looks he was receiving, Sirius said, "Hermione seemed to appear out of nowhere in the cell with me. She took my hand and did something to me, and suddenly I could see the Veil. When we started moving towards it, I heard this whisper in my mind, telling me to stay away. Hermione told me to ignore it, and we walked through."

Now Luke was nodding. "It was one of Hermione's theories that those caught behind the veil couldn't actually see a way out, and that's why they never returned on their own. It would also make sense that the Veil would try to convince you not the leave, if you somehow managed to reveal the exit."

"Is that what Hermione did? 'Revealed the exit'?" Harry asked, impressed, as always, by his best friend's brilliance.

"Not exactly. What she did was a stroke of genius really. She told me that she had gotten the idea from a muggle television show – _Stardoor_ or _Wormgate Extreme_ or something like that, it was called. Hermione created a spell that surrounded her – and later, Mr. Black – in what she called a 'sub-space bubble', effectively removing herself from the space and time around her. She wasn't effected by the Veil's resistance, because technically she wasn't really there. Neither were you, once she expanded the 'bubble' to include you." This last was addressed to Sirius.

Luke stopped talking to patiently allow the others to absorb what he knew to be a great deal of information. Explaining all of this, and having them listen, had definitely improved his mood.

"Ok, so if I'm connecting all the right dots here, Hermione's exhaustion was caused by this 'space bubble' spell, yeah?" Harry asked, seeking clarification.

"Yes." Luke sighed. "Creating the 'sub-space bubble' always took a lot out of Hermione during the simulations, but never to this extent. It seems that we underestimated the strain that the conditions behind the Veil would put on the bubble, and by extension, the person maintaining it. Our people are giving her the best care, but she's still unconscious –"

"No, she's not," came a voice from the office doorway. The four men all looked up to see a smiling Hermione, leaning against the doorframe.

For the second time that day, Harry and Ron leapt from their seats. This time they both flew across the room to hug the newcomer. Sirius didn't get a good look at Hermione before she was swamped in a tight group hug by her friends. The trio stayed like this for a long moment before Hermione spoke again.

In a somewhat muffled voice, she said, "It's nice that you missed me, but it would be even nicer if I could breathe."

The boys laughed and pulled away. They looked a little sheepish, but still reluctant to let her go. She smiled at them, then looked at the other two occupants of the room. Both stepped towards her and she moved to greet them.

"Hermione, I'm glad you're wake, but are you sure you should be on your feet again so soon?" Luke had reached Hermione first and said this in a worried tone as her hugged her lightly.

"I'm fine, Luke. I got the Healers' all clear, I'm just not allowed to do magic for a week, and only simple spells for two weeks after that, to give my system time to recover," she told him with a reassuring smile, before she turned to Sirius. "And how are you, Sirius? Do you feel alright? Are you readjusting?" Hermione's eyes were running over Sirius as she spoke, inspecting him for injuries or fatigue, the same way she did the boys after a rough day.

Sirius was also inspecting Hermione. She was the least changed of the three, at least on the surface. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a braid, but judging by the few curly wisps that had escaped, it was only a little less bushy and unmanageable. She was slightly taller than he remembered, and she may have filled out, but it was difficult to tell through the robes she was wearing. Her skin was still pale and only marred by one visible scar that was about an inch long and ran diagonally through her right eyebrow. Her eyes held similar shadows to Harry's, but still retained that spark of intelligence that had always defined in them.

Sirius wasn't sure what to say or do. She had saved him; set him free, again. What he really wanted to do was to hug her with the same enthusiasm that Harry and Ron had shown, but he had never been very close to Hermione, and was worried that he'd be overstepping his bounds. At the same time, there really weren't words for how grateful he was. Finally, he decided he'd never been very good with keeping inside of bounds anyway. He smiled at her.

"I'm fine, thanks to you." Then he stepped forward and pulled her into a crushing bear hug.

Hermione made an 'ooph' noise as the air was squeezed out of her, but after a surprised pause, she returned the hug and managed a breathless, "Welcome back, Sirius."

They pulled apart and Hermione smiled at the room in general. "Well, I've been given the next three weeks off and I hear it's been almost a month since I showered, so I'm going to head out." She turned to Luke. "I assume you explained everything?" she asked him.

"Yes, as best I could."

Hermione smiled. She knew how Luke enjoyed explaining things. "Thanks," she said, and turned back to Harry, Ron and Sirius. "How about you boys take me home then? I'm sure we've all got some catching up to do." The 'boys' grinned at her, and with a wave to Luke, she left the office with them.

As they walked to the elevator, Hermione asked them, "So, how much did Luke actually tell you?"

"Well," Ron replied, "he didn't get into the really technical stuff; he said he didn't understand it entirely himself. He just explained how you knew Sirius wasn't dead, and found a way to go and get him."

"By the way, we'll be having a little talk later about you risking your neck and disappearing for a month without telling us a thing," Harry interjected with a mock stern expression and semi-serious tone. They had all been really worried, regardless of Luke's constant assurances that Hermione was 'fine, just busy with work'.

Of cause, 'don't ever scare us like that again' wasn't the only thing he wanted to tell her. Harry wanted very much to thank Hermione for what she'd done, but he was afraid that if he started to say anything about that now, he'd break down. No, he'd definitely thank her, but later and in private.

Hermione had the grace to look a little shamefaced at his words, but also smiled her understanding smile. She always knew just what he was feeling.

"Well, I vote we leave off talking about anything too intense 'til we get home and comfortable," said Ron, as though reading his thoughts as well.

"Absolutely," Hermione agreed. "There is so much to go through," she said, mainly to Sirius, "and I for one, would like to do it sitting down."

They had reached to Apparation point by this time and Harry said, "Ok, Hermione will have to side-along apparate. How about you, Sirius? Are you feeling up to apparating on your own?"

Sirius had been smiling as he watched and listened to Harry interacting with his friends. Now his smile widened a little at the concern and affection he heard in his godson's voice. "That depends; I have to know where I'm going."

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Harry said, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place." Then seeing Sirius' eyes darken, he quickly continued. "I can't wait to show you how it's changed. We all – Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny and me – live there now. I…I hope you don't mind, but I figured…" Harry trailed off. He had much more confidence now than he had in fifth year, but seeing Sirius again had caused a few of the old insecurities to resurface, and he wanted to stop himself before he started babbling.

Hermione came to the rescue as usual. "It really is different," she said to Sirius. "Why don't we all apparate into the kitchen and we can give you a quick tour? We can fill you in on a few things along the way before we sit down to the serious gossip." She grinned.

Sirius had recovered from the shock of hearing that they lived in his despised childhood home, and now felt a little bad for unsettling Harry. He smiled at them all, and said, "Works for me. So, I'm assuming from the fact that the anti-apparation wards on the house are down, that the war is over." It wasn't phrased as a question, but it did end on a slightly enquiring note, and it reminded the others of how much Sirius had missed.

"Yes, the war is long done," Hermione said quietly. "Let's go home and we'll tell you everything." She gave him a gentle smile.

Hermione took Ron's arm, since he was the closest, and they were gone, but with no tell-tale popping noise. Sirius frowned slightly at this, and filed yet another question away for later. He and Harry caught each other's gaze and smiled slowly; the fact that Sirius was back finally beginning to sink in. Harry's eyes shone as he winked, before he, too, disapparated without a sound, a grinning Sirius followed an instant later.

AN: Nothing says 'thank you', like dollars in the waist band...or reveiws in the email account :)


	4. Welcome Home

Author's Note: Well, here's the next bit; it turned out a little longer than I thought it would. Thanks so much to everyone who comes back to read this, and a special thanks to everyone who reveiwed. You've all been great!

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything, accept a copy of the first 6 books.

War Stories

_**Chapter 3 **Welcome Home_

Sirius arrived in the kitchen on Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. It hadn't changed that much from what he remembered, though it was much lighter and cleaner than before.

"…contacted work and said I'd be taking the week off. Kingsley was fine with it." Ron was saying to Hermione.

Harry grinned. "You have the week off?" he asked Ron.

"Yep. I just flooed Kingsley." Ron looked at Sirius and explained, "He heads up Magical Law Enforcement now." He grinned. "I'm an Auror, though I train newbees rather than do field work these days." He gestured vaguely in the direction of his eye-patch.

Sirius nodded with a smile, then turned to Harry. "What about you? What are you up to now?"

"Well, you remember in fifth year, Fred and George Weasley planned to open a joke shop called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?" Sirius nodded. "After the war and everything, I felt like I needed a break from the whole saving people thing." He sent a wink to Hermione where she was sitting at the kitchen table writing on some parchment. She smiled, and Sirius got the impression that this was some private joke between them.

"So," Harry continued. "I started working with the twins as a tester for their merchandise." He grinned. "It isn't a job you'd call stress-free, but the fate of the world isn't resting on it either." Ron and Sirius laughed.

"The twins might disagree with you on that, Harry," Hermione smiled. She laid down the quill she was using and stood up, folding two pieces of parchment. "I'm going to send these with Pig and Hedwig." She turned to Sirius. "They're letters to Professor Lupin and Professor McGonnigall, telling them the news. While I'm doing this, why don't you guys start the tour? I'll catch up when I'm done."

The men nodded and moved towards the door. Something occurred to Sirius.

"So, does that mean old Moony's a Professor again?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "That is part of a very long story, Sirius, and this letter should have him appearing on our doorstep the second he reads it. See the house first, then we'll get into it, with his help."

Sirius frowned slightly, not liking being in the dark. But he shrugged, knowing they would tell him everything soon.

"Sure," he said. As Hermione smiled and left the room to send the letters, he continued to Harry and Ron. "Though judging by the kitchen, the place is all that differ…" His voice trailed away as they walked into the hall. "Wow."

Sirius was stunned. Where before the hall had been dank and dirty, it was now clean and bright. The walls and ceiling seemed to emit their own faint glow, the wooden floors were polished to a well-cared-for sheen, and the old, threadbare rugs had been replaced. And this was just the hall!

Seeing the house again, all the reasons why he and his friends had changed it came flooding back to Harry and he was able to say, with more confidence than he had felt back at the Ministry, "It _is_ really different. When I first found out that you'd left this place to me I never thought I'd even visit it, let alone live here. I knew how you felt about it. But after the war…I don't know, I guess I thought this was a good way to remember you; turn the house into a real home, the home it should have been for you," Harry paused slightly. "And for me."

Sirius nodded, looking sad, but touched as they began to move from room to room. Most of the rooms were clean and comfortable, but relatively empty and unused. Then they reached the floor where all of their bedrooms were.

"I sort of took over your old room, Sirius," Harry said in a tentative voice. "But we can change. You can have it back if you want."

Sirius smiled. "No, it's alright." It was already understood that Sirius would, of cause, move back into Black Manor with them. "To be honest, I'd rather a different room; fresh start and all that."

They walked down the corridor, not going into any of the rooms, just pointing each one out to Sirius and telling him who's it was.

"Next to mine is Ron and Luna's room," Harry said.

Sirius looked at Ron with raised eyebrows. The younger man smiled, saying with simple pride, "We're together."

They all smiled at that as they continued strolling down the hall. After a moment Harry spoke again. "Across the way there is Neville's room, and Ginny's is next to his. Hermione's room is on the other side of Ron's." He pointed to each as he said them. "Dobby and Winky live here too. They have rooms down the end. I asked them for help with this place when we moved in. It was even more of a wreck then when you lived here and we all had so much on our plates back then. We really couldn't have changed it so much without them."

It took a frowning moment for Sirius to remember who Dobby and Winky were. When the answer finally came to him, he asked, "So, if they work here now where is Kreacher? He isn't in the attic building a fort out of my Mum's old bloomers, is he?"

"Well," Ron said slowly. "I know you're probably sick of hearing this, Sirius, but it's all part of that long story we haven't gotten to telling you yet."

"Ah, we can skip to the happy ending of that little bit of the story," Harry decided. He smiled at Sirius. "Kreacher isn't here. In a nutshell, we put him in the Hogwarts kitchens so the elves there could keep an eye on him. He was caught stealing things from students and the Hogwarts elves were going to punish themselves for failing to keep him in line, until we told them that since Kreacher was at fault, they should punish him instead."

Ron grinned. "We just thought they were going to iron his hands or something, but what they did was way better." He looked at Harry as though asking permission to finish telling the tale. Harry nodded and Ron grinned wider. "They stripped him of all his magic and handed him over to Filch!"

This got the expected bark of laughter from Sirius. All three men were still chuckling when they came down the stairs again, where Hermione finally caught up with them.

"Good," Harry greeted her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "We wanted you to be here for the unveiling." Harry looked sideways at his Godfather. "Er…so to speak."

The others smiled before Ron elaborated a little for a confused looking Sirius. "We saved the best for last."

As they made their way down the last of the stairs to the entrance hall – which Sirius assumed they had avoided so far, due to his mother's portrait – Harry and Ron grew steadily more excited.

They came to the heavy curtains that covered Mrs. Black and Ron, now grinning from ear to ear, said, "Wait 'til you see this, Sirius."

Hermione stood off to one side with a look of fond amusement on her face, while Harry and Ron took up positions on either side of the curtains. Sirius was wondering why, with all the noise they were making, the she wasn't already screeching obscenities at them.

"Now, Hermione found a way to remove the sticking charm from the portrait," Harry said. "But we thought you'd enjoy this more." He nodded to Ron and they took hold of the curtains, sweeping them aside with a flourish.

Sirius' eyes widened and his jaw dropped. There was silence for a long moment, then he burst into hysterical laughter. The old hag was silent, due to the fact that her mouth had been altered to appear sewn shut with vivid orange string. Someone had also drawn on a curly moustache and pointy beard, as well as two small horns on each of Mrs. Black's temples. Though Sirius didn't yet recognise them, his mother's robes now resembled the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes staff uniform, and her hair was streaked Gryffindor red and gold and was stuck up in two messy pigtails. Sirius laughter began to subside, then he glanced again at the portrait and started laughing harder then ever.

Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed with him, each indescribably happy to have Sirius back.

Hermione was just closing the curtains over the portrait again, when there was a frantic pounding on the front door. They all looked towards the sound.

"That will be Professor Lupin, I expect," said Hermione, as Harry walked passed her to answer the door.

She was right. Remus Lupin began speaking as soon as he saw Harry, waving his arms wildly, clutching a piece of crumpled parchment in one hand, and a tiny, twittering Pig in the other. Tonks' bubblegum-pink hair could just be seen over his shoulder.

"Harry, have you had word from Hermione? I just got this letter saying…" He trailed off, no longer looking at Harry. Harry looked over his own shoulder, and seeing that Sirius had come to stand a few feet behind him, he moved aside. Remus' jaw dropped and he stepped forward. "How…? W-what…? How…?"

"Three excellent questions," Ron said, coming to stand beside Harry, looking between Sirius and Remus.

The two old friends stood studying each other with shocked expressions. Remus saw Sirius exactly as he had been that terrible night at the Ministry, not a hair different than he had looked then. Sirius on the other hand, saw many differences in Remus' appearance; the robes he wore, while not elaborate, were of good quality and not tattered or patched at all; his hair, which had been prematurely grey, was once again light brown, with only small silver streaks at his temples, as was natural for a man his age; and his face no longer held the tired, slightly sickly look it always had, the lines around his eyes were far less noticeable, and his skin-tone was much healthier. All in all, it seemed the last five years had been uncommonly kind to the werewolf.

The spell (figuratively speaking) was broken by Tonks. After the initial shock, she had sped around Remus, knocking over a hall table as she went, and threw her arms around her long lost cousin.

Sirius returned the hug for a second, then suddenly pulled back, looking down with wide eyes, then back up again into Tonks' face, his eyebrows climbing. "Your pregnant?!"

Tonks looked down at her swollen belly with a slight frown, as though she'd forgotten it was there. She looked up, saying, "Oh. Yeah, I am."

Remus stepped forward, grinning. "I wonder who the father is…"

Sirius' eyes went wider than ever. He waved his hand weakly between his cousin and his best friend. "You mean, you two are…?"

Remus nodded, practically bouncing with excitement and beaming with pride. Tonks rolled her eyes and laughed fondly at him.

A slow grin spread across Sirius' face and his shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Well, how 'bout that. A mini-Moony on the way."

The aged Marauders caught each other's eye and that was all it took. They laughed and hugged, pounding each other's backs exuberantly (Remus had fortunately thought to release Pig the owl before the pounding), both trying to talk at once and neither understanding a word.

While all this was happening, Harry had closed the front door and he and Ron moved unobtrusively to stand beside Hermione, unwilling to interrupt the moment. Now, Tonks left the men to the expression of their feelings - in a manly way, of cause – and came over to where the trio stood.

"Wotcha, guys." She gave Hermione a hug, saying quietly, "Good to have you back, Hun; you had us all worried with that little 'just busy at work' disappearing act. Thanks for this, though." She waved to where Remus and Sirius were still trying, unsuccessfully, to communicate in full sentences.

A few moments later, the reunited friends calmed down enough to realise that talking over each other was getting them nowhere, and they turned, rather sheepishly to look at the others.

Harry smiled. "We all have a lot to catch up on. Remus, Tonks, if you two aren't busy for the rest of the day, why don't you stick around and help with the story telling?"

"Lunch!" Ron suddenly said, drawing all eyes.

"Well, that was random," Tonks blinked. "Albuquerque! See, I can do it, too. Snorkel!"

"Doormat!" Sirius produced, getting into the spirit of things.

"No." Ron rolled his eyes. "I mean, it's like 3 o'clock in the afternoon and I haven't eaten since breakfast." The others continued to look at him oddly. He rolled his eyes again at have to explain further. "I know there's a lot to catch Sirius up on, but nobody's narrating on an empty stomach. Let's make some lunch, _then_ settle in for the first instalment of 'What Sirius Missed', ok?" His stomach let out a hungry growl right then, as if to help argue his point.

Listening to such a food related discussion, Harry realised that he was hungry, too. "Sounds good to me," he announced. He then pointed his wand in the general direction of the kitchen and immediately the sound of cookware clanging industriously could be heard through the door.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at Harry, who shrugged and joined Ron and Hermione as they headed towards the parlour.

Remus smiled at the confused look on Sirius' face. "You didn't think Harry could live with Ron and _not_ know how to cook, did you?"

"What about Ginny? Harry said she lived here, too?" Sirius asked, thinking she would have been the obvious choice to fill Molly's usual role.

"As it turns out, cooking skill isn't hereditary." Tonks was loosing patience with standing in the hall. She took each of them by the arm and led them in the trio's wake. "C'mon you two. Mini-Moony and me are hungry."

Remus groaned. "See what you've started?" he said to Sirius. "Nicknames like that stick, you know."

Sirius tried and failed to look innocent as they entered the parlour.

Like the rest of the house, the parlour was bright and clean, but obviously lived in. There were two couches opposite each other with a low table sitting between them. There were also several comfortable looking armchairs scattered about the large room, some with smaller tables nearby. A large bookcase took up one corner, a few feet to the left of a fireplace. Overall, large though it was, the room seemed cosy, warm and safe. Not unlike the Gryffindor common room, Sirius reflected, accept that it also included Ravenclaw blue and silver.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had already seated themselves; Harry and Hermione sat on either end of one couch, while Ron had sprawled very comfortably in what Sirius took to be his usual armchair. Remus and Tonks moved passed him and took the other couch and Sirius lowered himself into another armchair.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, nobody quite knowing what to say. Then Harry raised his head, saying, "Lunch is ready."

An array of food appeared on the low table before them, with a stack of plates and cutlery to one side.

"Well, serve yourselves and dig in," Harry invited.

At first the room was quiet as everyone took the edge off of their hunger, enjoyed each other's company, and collected their thoughts. It was Sirius who finally spoke.

"So, why don't we start at the beginning? What happened at the Ministry after I fell through the Veil?" he asked quietly. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't have been easy for any of them.

"Well," Harry began. "I didn't believe you were really gone at first. I kept expecting you to come back out. Then, when I know you wouldn't, I went after Bellatrix and…"

A/N: When the next chapter starts, they will have finished catching Sirius up on book 6. I saw no reason to retell HBP; just imagine that Sirius has now been told everything that Harry and them knew at the end.

Feedback is my friend, and nobody can have too many friends :)


	5. Absent Friends

Author's Note: Thanks bunches for reading, and thanks bigger bunches to everyone who reviewed. It has been brought to my attention by one of my wonderful reviewers (yes, you're all wonderful!), that this story could be considered 'just another post-war fanfic'. I do appreciate your input, and I answer: well, maybe it is, but I really wanted to write it anyway. I do intend to add some twists and cul-de-sacs – which I will not tell you about, 'cause a twist is really only a twist if you don't see it coming – and ask that you please stay tuned. In any event, as long as people are enjoying the story, that's all that matters :)

Disclaimer: Please refer to the prologue, so you don't think I'm stealing things.

War Stories

_**Chapter 4 **Absent Friends_

It was well into the night by the time the retelling had finally reached the point of Dumbledore's death. Sirius had been shocked, to put it mildly. He, like everyone else, had always worked under the unspoken assumption that Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, simply could not be killed.

"But…he's the only one Voldermort" (with a sort of distant surprise, Sirius noted that nobody in the room flinched at the name) "ever feared! How…how…?" He seemed not to know the words to express the question. Or maybe he didn't even know what he was trying to ask.

"He was also a very old man," his godson said quietly. It had taken a long time for Harry to come to terms, not just with the fact of Dumbledore's murder, but also with the very idea that such a great and powerful wizard _could_ die. He understood Sirius' inability to process this information, and tried to explain the conclusion that it had taken Harry himself years to fully accept. "An old man, who had been terribly weakened, and not just by what happened in the cave. He was strong, and wise, and brilliant, and good, but he was still only human."

Sirius listened as Harry calmly spoke words wise beyond his years, even taking into account the five years he'd been gone. In that moment, Harry reminded Sirius so forcibly of the old wizard they were discussing, that it almost brought tears to his eyes.

"He was just a person, who had lived far longer than many people do, especially in wartime," Harry concluded. For some reason, the gaze of most of the room turned to Hermione at that.

Hermione had tried valiantly to stay awake as the story was told, but the strain of the magic she had used to bring Sirius back had taken its toll, and she had drifted off only an hour or two after they had begun. She was now deeply asleep, lying curled on the other end of the couch where Harry sat.

She wasn't the only one sleeping. Pregnancy was a tiring business and Tonks had joined Hermione in dreamland some time around midnight. Though she, physically incapable of curling up this far along, lay sprawled on her side with a cushion supporting her belly and her feet in Remus' lap. This position had been a conscious decision on her part as, about an hour after Hermione fell asleep, she had kicked off her shoes, swung her legs up so her feet rested on the werewolf's knees, and wiggled her toes pointedly at him. This seemed to be a long standing arrangement, since Remus, without further prompting, absentmindedly began rubbing them.

The room was also more crowded now than it had been to begin with. Dobby and Winky had appeared a short time before Hermione had fallen asleep, and had contributed a little to the story, but left at around nine o'clock, promising to ready the room Sirius had chosen, before they went to bed themselves. Luna, Ginny and Neville had arrived home at various times during the evening. Each had greeted Sirius warmly, once they had recovered from their surprise, and had been given a very brief explanation for the exonerated convict's presence. Neville had taken an armchair beside Ron, Ginny had seated herself in another armchair near Sirius, and Luna was sitting cross-legged on a cushion at Ron's feet, leaning back against his legs, while his fingers ran slowly through her hair.

Everyone listened quietly as Harry went on to describe his own actions immediately after the Headmaster's death. A few of the others then added their own perspective of events during that terrible night, and Harry finished with an account of Dumbledore's funeral.

When Harry fell silent at last, the sombre mood remained. Sirius was still struggling to absorb everything he had heard, while the others sat lost in their own memories and thoughts. It was Harry who finally brought everyone back to earth by rising to his feet.

"Well, it's…" he glanced at the clock on the mantle "…three-thirty in the morning, and some of us have had a longer day than others," he looked pointedly at Hermione's still sleeping form. "I think this is a good hold point, Sirius. You've been given more than enough information to digest for one day. We'll pick this up again tomorrow, when you're ready, alright?" Harry suggested.

"Yeah," Sirius answered, sounding tired. "I feel like I haven't slept in years."

The joke was weak, but they all laughed quietly, grateful for the break in the tension.

"I'll take Hermione upstairs," Harry volunteered, stooping over his sleeping friend and scooping her off the couch. She stirred just enough to settle herself more comfortably in his arms, but didn't open her eyes.

Harry then turned to Remus, who was gently lifting Tonks' feet off of his lap. "Do you two want to stay here tonight? You know the guest room is always ready for you."

"Thanks, I'd like that. She's impossible to wake until she's good and ready, and I don't want to risk side-along apperation this close to the due date." Remus went to scoop Tonks up as Harry had done Hermione, but stopped and looked around at the others. "Don't tell her; it might hurt her feelings," he said, then took out his wand and performed a feather-light charm on the sleeping woman, before lifting her off the couch. Sirius sniggered, earning himself a scowl from his old friend.

Ron hastily turned his laugh into a cough as he helped Luna up from her cushion, before dragging is own lanky frame out of his armchair. Neville and Ginny were already standing by the door.

The group made its way quietly up the stairs. Remus nodded to the others, then carried Tonks down a separate corridor towards the guest bedrooms. With waves and murmured goodnights, Ginny and Neville disappeared into their own rooms.

"It really is great to have you back, Sirius," Ron said, while Luna just smiled her dreamy smile. They went to their room, too.

Harry had stopped outside Hermione's door and Sirius came to stand in front of him. Neither man said anything. Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder (the one Hermione's head wasn't resting on) and squeezed it, trying to convey his love, gratitude, regret, and all his other, less easily identified emotions, through the gesture. Harry smiled slightly in understanding; sometimes words weren't needed.

Sirius returned the smile, removed his hand and used it to open Hermione's door, before turning and walking away up the corridor towards his new room.

Harry continued to smile at his godfather's retreating back for a moment, then carefully manoeuvred through the open door. He made his way to the bed and gently placed his friend on it, then reached for the blanket that was folded neatly at her feet. He shook it out and glanced up at Hermione's face. Her eyes were open and her gaze was wandering lazily around the room, until it finally landed on him. She smiled.

"Hey."

Harry smiled back as he spread the blanket over her and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. "Hey, you ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered sleepily. "I'm sorry, Harry. I tried to stay awake, I really did. Is Sirius alright?"

Harry nodded. "He's a bit overwhelmed just now, but he'll be fine." He took her hand and chafed it gently between his own. Frowning down at what he was doing, he said thickly, "Listen Hermione, I wanted to thank you. I can't tell you what it means to me, to have him here and safe. I -" He broke off, no longer able to speak past the lump in has throat.

Hermione, pulling her hand out of his grasp, sat up and wrapped her arms around him. They held each other silently for a long moment, before she spoke.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing. I was just afraid to get your hopes up only to find that I couldn't do it."

Harry pulled away and shook his head, his eyes still overly bright. "It's ok, Hermione. This is the best thing you could have done for me." He suddenly got a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It even makes up for you being MIA on my birthday."

Hermione gasped. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I completely lost track of time…er, I mean, I was hoping to be back before…but I got you a present before I left, I just have to…" She trailed off at the sound of Harry sniggering. Her eyes narrowed. "Harry James Potter, if I wasn't so tired and under Healer's orders not to, I'd hex you into next week!"

His snigger turned into a laugh as she playfully hit him with a pillow.

"G'night, Hermione," Harry smiled and stood.

"Night, Harry," Hermione answered, laying down again and smiling back.

He went to walk away to his own room, but turned back towards the bed at the sound of her voice.

"Oh, and Harry." She waited until his eyebrows rose questioningly, before she smiled again. "Happy Birthday." She winked at him, before both of her eyes drifted closed.

Harry watched her fall asleep, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He stood in the darkened corridor, with one hand resting on the wood of the door, his head bowed slightly and his eyes closed. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as a smile grew across his face. He felt his shoulders sag in relief; the kind of relief he hadn't felt since just after Tom Riddle had been destroyed. Sirius was home, Hermione was home, and Harry felt that his family was a little more complete.

Sirius could not remember when he had ever been this tired. Even after he had escaped from Azkaban he had had his determination to find Harry and Peter to fuel him. Now he was just exhausted, but still could not sleep.

Everything Harry and the others had told him kept going over and over in his mind: how Kreacher had been the one carrying information to the Malfoys; how the prophesy that Voldermort was after indicated that Harry was the one with the power to end the war, that Harry would kill, or be killed by the Dark Lord; how Draco had spent all of his sixth year at Hogwarts plotting the Headmaster's murder; how Snape had been the one to kill Dumbledore when Draco could not.

Sirius lay on his back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed, and they were only a year into the story! He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear his mind so that he could sleep. Clearing his mind didn't work, but exhaustion finally did the job for him and he drifted asleep just as the sun began to light the horizon.

A/N: This chapter was originally different. I changed it because I wanted to include more of Sirius' reaction to hearing that Dumbledore had died. I had also intended to start telling what happened after that during this chapter, but this seemed to come to a natural close before I got there. I promise to deliver original – or as original as anything that I can write - wartime happenings in the next instalment.

So, what think you?


	6. Civilians Die In Wars, Too

Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long. I'm in the middle of relocating to another country, so writing this has had to take a bit of a back seat. Hopefully I'll be able to update a bit more regularly once I'm settled. In the meantime, thanks for your patience, and your reviews! You've all been so nice!

I've also been getting a lot of questions regarding the pairings. I know this isn't the answer you want to hear, but the truth is I really don't know. I could say there will be a pairing now, but this story has had a habit of changing all by itself and just dragging my typing fingers along for the ride. I have very little idea where the relationships will go. The only ones I'm certain about are Ron/Luna and Remus/Tonks. In any event, the other pairings – whoever they may be – will only be subtle; this isn't a romance. Sorry. I like romances, I just can't write 'em.

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**IMPORTANT - PLEASE READ** The parts of the story between lines like these aren't flashbacks _per se. _They are just everyone getting so involved in hearing or telling the story that they all feel like they're back there, seeing it all again. Or for the first time. Thank you.

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Disclaimer: If you recognise it from somewhere else, it probably isn't mine. 

War Stories

_**Chapter 5 **Civilians Die In Wars, Too_

Sirius awoke at about one o'clock the following afternoon and for a moment, didn't know where he was. Then memory of the previous day came flooding back. This was the Black House, Number Twelve Grimmould Place, though nothing at all like the Black House he grew up in.

The bedroom he had chosen yesterday had been clean and bright, but rather empty. The house elves, Dobby and Winky, had promised that they would prepare this room for his use last night, but Sirius had been so tired and preoccupied when he had walked in here, that he hadn't noticed any change.

Sitting up and looking around now, he was astonished at the difference. He sat in a four poster bed, hung with crimson drapes (which he had not bothered to close), while a closet and chest of drawers stood beside a door that he knew led to a small bathroom. A desk and leather chair were arranged before the large window, to the right of the window was a bookcase, and next to that, a fireplace. All in all, the room was warm and comfortable, yet masculine, and reminded him greatly of the room he had been given at the Potters' after he had run away from this house as a teenager.

Sirius was lost in his memories of happier times with James for a moment, before he gave himself a slight shake and climbed out of the bed. He investigated the closet and drawers first and found clothes that he recognised as his own from before. Surprised but glad that Harry had kept them so long, he headed towards the bathroom. On the inside surface of the door was a full length mirror and Sirius stopped dead when he caught sight of his own reflection in it.

He stared at himself, taking in his shabby black clothes, his shaggy black hair, his gaunt face and haunted eyes…his overall bedraggled appearance. It wasn't that he was shocked at what he saw; he had looked much the same the last time he had happened to look in a mirror. No, what had him transfixed was the realisation that he hadn't changed one bit in what everyone else would say was five years.

_Five years!_ Sirius thought in disbelief and the first stirrings of anger. He leaned in closer to the mirror, narrowing his eyes. Everything around him was different. The world had continued forward while he had been left behind. _And I didn't even know it was happening!_ This thought overwhelmed him for a second, until it was followed by another. _This isn't necessarily a bad thing. _Sirius' gaze grew distant as this new line of reasoning continued. _The world is different, but not worse. They told me they had won the war, so Hell, the world might even be better. It isn't as though my life was that great five years ago; I was a fugitive, confined to a house I hated, having to sit around uselessly while others fought the man who killed my two best friends. This might be the chance I hoped for. A chance at a real life._

Sirius went over all of the information about what he had missed, that he had collected so far. The war was over, which had to mean that Voldemort was gone for good. He wasn't sure yet how many people he knew, besides those in this house, had survived, but he thought that Ron or Ginny would have said something if the Weasleys had suffered very many losses…and come to think of it, Harry had mentioned working with the twins. He wondered about the other Order of the Phoenix members, though Harry had told him that Emmeline Vance had been murdered in the summer after Sirius' own 'death'. Amelia Bones was another casualty. She hadn't been in the Order, but she had definitely been an asset to the Light side. He remembered Ron saying that Kingsley Shacklebolt was now Head of Magical Law Enforcement…who else's name had he heard? McGonagall! Hermione had said she had written to Professor McGonagall, telling her Sirius was back.

That young guy who had been waiting when they had arrived back through the Veil, Collin Creevey, had told him that he had been exonerated – albeit posthumously – by the Ministry. So, he was free to go wherever he wanted now without fear of arrest.

His eyes focused again on his reflection and in that moment, he made his choice; he was going to go out into this new, different, Voldemort-free world and make of his life something better…but (his eyes ran over his reflection again) he wasn't going anywhere looking like this. With a new determination Sirius headed into the bathroom.

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Forty minutes later, Sirius stood again before the mirror, shaved, showered and scrubbed almost raw, dressed in neat black robes and trying to decide what to do with his hair.

It was now clean, but still shaggy. In the end, he used his wand to just trim it a little, making him look carelessly handsome, as apposed to homelessly unkempt. He gave himself one of his old rakish smiles – which, had they seen it, would have reminded Harry and Ron horrifyingly of Lockhart – and then laughed at himself, shaking his head at his own foolishness. Still chuckling, he crossed the room and made his way downstairs to see who was still in the house.

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Harry and Ron were sitting in the kitchen. Harry was reading the _Daily Prophet_, which lay flat on the table top, while Ron was leaning back in his chair, with his feet on the table and holding the _Quibbler _in front of him, upside-down. Harry glanced up at his best mate.

"You do know Hermione will tear your ears off if she sees you doing that, don't you?" he said casually.

"What, the feet on the table, or the upside-down _Quibbler_?" Ron asked, without looking at him.

"Both," Harry smiled.

"Well," Ron shrugged. "Hermione's not here, is she? Besides, I'm doing research. She can't get mad at me for doing research."

Thinking that this aught to be good, Harry sat back in his chair and looked fully at Ron. "Research, huh?"

"Yeah," Ron glanced up. "Luna has to be seeing something interesting, or she wouldn't sit there for hours reading this thing upside-down." He gestured with the magazine in his hands. "I'm trying to figure out what it is."

"Riiight," Harry answered, trying not to laugh. "So…found anything?"

"Not yet," Ron said, frowning at the page. "Though, if you turn it this way and kinda squint a little…" He rotated the magazine and squinted with his good eye. "No, never mind. It was just a crease in the page." He turned the _Quibbler_ upside-down again.

"Ronald, what on earth do you think you're doing?!"

Ron hurriedly dropped his feet, and all four legs of his chair to the floor, before looking up at Hermione, who was standing in the doorway.

He looked guilty for only an instant, then his face smoothed into an expression of innocent studiousness, and he answered, "Research."

Harry snorted with laughter, while Hermione rolled her eyes and asked him, "Do I even want to know?"

"Prob'ly not." He grinned.

Hermione smiled. She went over to the stove and began making herself a cup of tea. Harry went back to reading the _Prophet_.

"Well, I give up!" Ron announced after a few minutes, closing the magazine and putting it on the table. "Maybe it's a depth perception thing."

"Yeah, and no one could ever accuse you of being deep," Harry nodded solemnly.

"Exactly," Ron said, as though Harry had just proven his point. Then, "Wait…Hey!"

Hermione snorted while taking a sip of tea, as Ron threw the _Quibbler_ at Harry. A bark-like laugh came from the doorway.

Harry's eyes lit up as he heard the sound that, until yesterday, he'd thought he would never hear again. The trio turned to look at Sirius and all three of their jaws dropped in surprise.

Ron recovered first, saying with a grin, "Well, don't you look spiffy!"

Sirius grinned a little self-consciously as the others chuckled. He came to sit beside Harry at the table.

"Tea, Sirius?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, thanks."

She brought him a cup and sat down across from him.

"So, is this everyone?" Sirius asked.

Hermione nodded. "Neville, Ginny and Luna had to work today. Tonks and Professor Lupin-"

She was cut off by Ron, who rolled his eye. "Why don't you just call him Remus? You're not a student anymore."

"We've been over this, Ronald." Hermione sighed impatiently at having to explain again. "Professors help to shape their students into the people that they will eventually become. The position of Professor is therefore extremely important, and those holding that position deserve the respect of everyone, not just students."

Ron looked as though he wanted to continue to argue the point, but at a death glare from Harry, who had heard this exchange between his two best friends _many_ times since they had left school, he merely 'humph'ed and sat back in his chair.

Hermione turned back to a grinning Sirius. "As I was saying, Tonks and Professor" (Ron 'humph'ed again, and she glared at him) "Lupin went home a little while ago, to freshen up a bit. Tonks told me that she went on Maternity Leave from the Ministry last week, and it's the summer break, so neither of them have to worry about missing work. We didn't know how long you would sleep for, but they said that they would be back at about three o'clock." She looked at Harry and Ron. "They also said not to start the story again without them. It seems that they have been curious about everything we did after we left school, too."

"I thought you'd filled him in after Hogwarts," Ron said to Harry.

"Well," Harry shrugged a little. "None of us were really in the best shape after Hogwarts, and a lot of other stuff was happening. I just kind of gave him an overview."

Ron was frowning a little, but Hermione gave Harry an understanding look. "Yes," she said. "I remember how difficult those times were to talk about back then."

Harry gave her a grateful smile, then turned to explain some of what they were talking about to Sirius. "When we said Hogwarts just now, we were talking about the Battle of Hogwarts. It was the final battle of the war." Harry smiled slightly, though his eyes had darkened a little. "Not to spoil the ending for you, but our side won. Still, we all got pretty beaten up during the fight," Harry looked at Ron. "Not really in any state for long story telling."

Ron gave a rueful smile and nodded in agreement.

Sirius was drinking in all of this new information. It made him feel oddly better to know that Remus and Tonks were going to be hearing a lot of this for the first time as well. He just opened his mouth to seek further clarification, when the kitchen grate behind him blazed into green flame.

"Harry, Ron? Ah, there you are. I just received the most extraordinary letter from Hermione. Do you…"

Professor McGonagall's head had appeared in the heart of the fire. She had seen Harry and Ron sitting at the table and begun to speak, but had trailed off when Sirius had turned and she saw his face.

Her eyes widened. "Now _that_ is extraordinary," she all but whispered.

"We're right there with ya," Harry smiled.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione got up and approached the fireplace. "How are you?"

"Oh I'm well, Hermione." She smiled at her former student before her eyes returned to Sirius. "This has certainly done my heart a world of good. And how are you, Mister Black?"

Sirius grinned. "Just fine, Minerva. Though I'm a bit impatient to hear the rest of what all I missed. We were only about a year into the story when we called a halt last night, and we're waiting for Moony and Tonks before we get back into it."

McGonagall raised one eyebrow and looked speculatively at Harry, Ron and Hermione. "A year in, you say? That would put you at about the point when these three left for their mysterious mission for Dumbledore, am I right?"

"It isn't mysterious." Ron said. "Harry explained about it to you the same time he did Remus-"

"Overview," Harry interjected.

"Oh, right," Ron subsided.

"Well," said McGonagall, looking even more speculative. "I've had my questions regarding that particular time, myself." She paused for a second, then seemed to come to a decision. "Alright, just let me take care of a few things here, then I'll be right over. This is one story I wouldn't miss for all the gold in Gringotts." Her head had disappeared from the fire before anyone could say another word.

"This is starting to feel like story-time at the library," Hermione smiled.

hphphp

Three o'clock had rolled around and Remus and Tonks appeared once again at the front door of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, only to be told that they had to wait for Professor McGonagall to arrive before they could start the story. They didn't have long to wait. McGonagall walked in through the kitchen grate about ten minutes later.

Everyone settled themselves comfortably around the parlour, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and McGonagall looking expectantly at the trio, ready to listen to the tale that they had each waited varying amounts of time to hear.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had known that this part of the narrative would be as difficult as to retell as Dumbledore's murder had been, if not more so. This being the case, they had instinctively chosen seats as close to each other as possible; Hermione sat in the middle of one of the couches, with Harry and Ron on either side of her. It was Ron, perhaps the least invested in this portion of the tale, who spoke first.

"Well," he began. "when I told Harry that me and Hermione would be with him every step of the way, I sort of imagined us being exactly that; you know, following him into his uncle's car, riding with him to Privet Drive, the whole shot. But then, on the train, we got to talking to Neville, not about horcruxes, just about how we weren't coming back for seventh year, even if the school didn't close.

"We sort of knew, even then, that things would get worse before they got better, so Harry asked Neville to reassemble the DA, if Hogwarts reopened, and if any members came back. We told him to recruit new members too, if he could find anyone willing and trustworthy enough. Hermione gave him that parchment that we all signed so the newbees could sign it. Harry told him everything he'd need to know to run the meetings, and we promised to visit the school to talk to them at the start of the year, and any time after that if he needed us to. Neville could fill you in on the details of the conversation if you're really interested.

"At any rate, he asked me and Hermione if we were going to see our families again, before we left. We ended up deciding to each spend the night with our family, explain a few things to them – nothing specific, just the general going to war situation – then meet at Harry's house next day."

Harry nodded. "Just as well really. I doubt Vernon would have let either of you in the car; he could barely stand to have me in it," he said ruefully. "Anyway, the platform at Kings Cross was insane when we arrived. There was security everywhere and hysterical parents all over. We were swamped by the Weasleys almost before we'd stepped off the train. Then you guys," he looked at Remus and Tonks. "Along with Kingsley came to escort us through the barrier. Hermione said she was going to find her parents, then we lost her in the crowd. I was kind of swept along to Vernon's car. You know, I'm still surprised that he actually showed up. I was sure that they would ignore the owl the school sent out, to tell the parents we were all coming back early…" Harry stopped at the sight of Professor McGonagall smiling in grim satisfaction. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Your aunt and uncle _did_ ignore the owl that the school sent out," she told him. "They _couldn't _ignore the howler that _I_ sent out. It was particularly well written, even if I do say so myself."

Harry considered asking what exactly McGonagall had written, but decided to let it pass.

"Right," he said, then continued the story. "Well, we drove back to Privet Drive, escorted by four Ministry cars. I suppose they didn't want their precious Chosen One ambushed on the ride home." His voice had taken on a bitter edge and he glanced at Hermione.

She glanced back at Harry, then at Ron, and a look of understanding seemed to pass between the trio.

"I couldn't find my parents at Kings Cross," Hermione took up the tale, speaking for the first time. "I waited as long as I could, but I knew that standing about in public wasn't the best idea. After a little while I found a taxi…"

* * *

The taxi pulled into Hermione's street and she saw it; the Dark Mark, glowing green in the early night sky, hanging ominously over her own house. Her breath catching, Hermione looked over at the driver. 

He was looking up the street towards her house, but it was obvious, from the complete absence of panic, dread, or even confusion, in his expression, that the Dark Mark's presence, and all the horrific possibilities that it represented, was entirely lost on him.

"You know," she said, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible. "I think I might have accidentally given you the wrong house number…" She gave him the number of the house five houses further down the street.

They pulled up and the driver helped her to take her trunk and Crookshanks' carrier out of the back. She paid the fare and thanked him, then watched as the taxi disappeared around the corner. As soon as it was out of sight, she collapsed to her knees beside her trunk, her body heaving with dry sobs.

It took a few seconds for her mind to move passed her fear and panic, but finally she regained control of herself and looked around to see if anyone had witnessed her – from their perspective – inexplicable behaviour. She couldn't see anyone, so she dragged herself back to her feet, and faced her luggage.

"Crookshanks," she said, crouching down in front of the carrier. "I…I'm going to send you to Harry's, alright?" Crookshanks seemed to frown in disagreement and meowed loudly, pushing his head against the carrier door. "I'll be right behind you, Sweetie," she tried to reassure herself, as much as the distressed cat. "I'll be right there, I just need to…" Hermione looked back at the Dark Mark. "I have to know."

Ignoring Crookshanks' increasingly frantic attempts to escape the carrier, Hermione picked it up and placed it on top of her trunk. With a swift glance around to make sure nobody was watching, she tapped the top of the carrier with her wand, making both it, and the trunk, disappear. Suddenly feeling very alone, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then lifted her wand and cast a disillusionment charm on herself. Sticking close to the deep shadows, Hermione approached her home.

If she had been a muggle, unable to see the Dark Mark or unaware of it's meaning, Hermione would have seen nothing to cause her alarm. The house and front garden were undamaged, and the living room light even appeared to be on. As she got closer though, she noticed that the front door was slightly ajar.

Wand at the ready, she quietly made her way to the living room window; she wanted an idea of what she would find inside, before she went for the door. She had to firmly suppress a gasp at the sight that met her eyes. A black robed and masked figure lay facedown on the living room floor, in a pool of blood. A few feet to the left of him, Hermione spotted her late Grandfather's old German pistol – a souvenir from his army days during World War II. It seemed that her father, who kept the relict in careful repair as a hobby, had put up quite a fight. That thought gave her courage a small boost as she finally moved towards the door.

Through the small gap, she could see that the foyer was dimly lit from the living room doorway. Not certain that it was safe to touch the door with her bare hand, she used her sleeve covered elbow to slowly nudge it further open. Hermione's eyes widened in terror, and she almost retched at the thick, metallic smell in the air. The walls and floor shone darkly with spatters and smears of still-drying blood, but what drew her horrified gaze, were the figures of her parents as they hung, bound at the wrists and suspended in mid-air, a few inches below the ceiling. Both of their clothes were shredded and blood-soaked, and their exposed flesh was covered in gaping wounds, burns and bruises.

Hermione couldn't prevent the small whimper that escaped her and the sound attracted attention. Her parents' heads moved very slightly, turning a little to face the door, causing her to take an impulsive step forward. She felt the shift in the air immediately, and froze. A small, coldly logical and miraculously still functioning, corner of Hermione's mind, provided the information that her movement forward had disturbed a _Committo Laqueus_ spell – the magical equivalent of a tripwire. Later, she could only attribute her survival to a combination of instinct and accidental magic.

Hermione stood immobile, as an explosion ripped through the house from somewhere further inside. She watched as a wall of green flame and debris engulfed her parents' bodies from behind. The instant before the wall would hit her too, a shield erupted from her still poised wand tip. She was protected from the flames, but the force of the blast hit the shield and threw her backwards, out of the house. She hit the ground hard, some twenty feet away, and rolled a few feet further until she lay motionless, half on her stomach and half on her side, near the edge of her front lawn. The last thought she had, before the sight of the inferno that had been her home faded from view, was a single, yet powerful, wish to be somewhere safe.

* * *

There was an appalled silence in the parlour of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Sirius was predictably shocked at this latest revelation. Remus, Tonks, and Professor McGonagall had, of cause, been informed of the attack at the Granger house, but at the time, Hermione had been too distraught to give anything more than a basic rundown of events. They were, therefore, aghast at this much more detailed recounting. Harry and Ron, having heard the full version of that terrible night before, just held their friend's hands in sympathy and support.

Hermione shook her head slightly, her eyes regaining the focus that they had lost during the retelling. She took in the horrified faces of her audience and immediately felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to inflict that much graphic detail on you all. I just got lost in the past, I guess…" She stopped, bowing her head.

"No." McGonagall rose from her seat and came to kneel before Hermione. She reached out and gently placed her hand against her former student's cheek, urging the younger woman to meet her eyes. "Of cause, I always suspected that there was more to the attack than you ever told us. We were all so busy at the time and you were so upset, that I just let it go. I expect it would have done you a world of good to get it off your chest though. I should have followed it up. I should have encouraged you to talk to me about it. I'm very sorry, my dear."

Hermione nodded. McGonagall, knowing she was forgiven, rose from her knees with Ron's help and headed back to her seat. She looked back at the trio in time to see Hermione turning to Harry, silently asking him to take over the story. He nodded, squeezing her hand comfortingly, then turned to the others.

"Vernon and I got back to Privet Drive without incident. The Ministry cars left once we were inside. Petunia was laying out dinner when we walked in. Dudley was still at Smeltings." Seeing the confused faces of everyone but Ron and Hermione, Harry explained. "His school." The others nodded in understanding. "I thought that while I had them both there, I'd explain a few things…"

* * *

Vernon and Petunia seemed determined to ignore Harry's presence. Neither had said a word to him so far and only communicated that he was to do something (put his trunk away, sit down, and so on) by giving him very pointed glares. The three reluctant relatives now sat silently around the kitchen table. Harry, thinking that there was no point in putting off this discussion, regardless of how little he wanted to have it, spoke. 

"Uncle Vernon? Aunt Petunia?" With what looked like great reluctance, they turned their eyes towards their nephew. "I don't know how much the letter from the school explained about why I'm back here early…" He paused, allowing time for them to say…well, anything. They didn't.

"Well, put simply, the school was attacked by Death Eaters." At the sight of their blank faces, he elaborated. "The servants of Voldemort." Then, in case it was still unclear; "The man who killed my parents."

At their continued silence, and wondering vaguely if they had both been hit with _silencio_s, Harry cleared his throat and tried again.

"Look, I won't be here long," he said, thinking that this at least would get a reaction. He wasn't wrong.

"Good." Vernon snapped. "You shouldn't be here now. It isn't our problem if that freaky school of yours gets what's coming to it-"

Harry had raised his hand hoping his uncle would be quiet again, and was somewhat shocked when it worked. He shook it off, and went on with what he had to say.

"I'll only be here for ten days. I'm not absolutely sure how long I have to be here for the blood protection to do its thing, but I think ten days should do it. After that, I'm gone, and we'll never have to see each other again." Vernon looked as though he wanted to say something, but a glance from Petunia seemed to change his mind. "Now, a word of warning; the blood protection that has kept me safe while in this house, has also kept you safe. The bad guys – Voldemort and his Death Eaters – they know that it's going to stop working on my seventeenth birthday."

Thinking that Petunia would be more likely to take his words seriously, Harry looked dead into her eyes. "They'll be coming. As soon as that protection is gone, they'll come. I would strongly advise that none of you be here when they do."

This time, Vernon would not be silenced. "How dare you?!" he thundered. "How dare you suggest we leave our home?! You brought this down on us – we should pitch you out and call the police!"

"Oh, well, sure. Call the police. I should've thought of that," Harry said. "So, what would you tell 'em?"

Vernon's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Petunia's hand on his arm finally made him subside back into his chair. She looked at her sister's child with no discernable human emotion in her face.

"What do you suggest we do?" she asked flatly.

Harry thought for a moment, then said, "You're safe here until my birthday, but Death Eaters might be positioned around the area before that. I suggest that you make sure you have full coverage insurance on the house and contents, then pack your bags. Take yourselves, Dudley, and any trinkets around here that you can't bare to part with on an extended vacation abroad. It would probably be best if you leave about the same time I do. Don't tell anyone where you're going, and use fake names when you get there. Hedwig," (again, blank faces) "my owl, will know how to find you, so I'll let you know when it's safe to return. Don't hold your breath, though; it might be a long time coming."

Vernon just sat there looking shell-shocked, but Petunia's expression had turned calculating, as though she was already working through the logistics of the Dursleys' overseas migration in her mind, making Harry wonder if perhaps she had already known that this might be necessary.

"One last thing," Harry said, bringing their attention back to him. "Two of my friends from school will be arriving here tomorrow, and will be staying until I leave. Both of them are of-age in the wizarding world, so both are allowed to do magic." He looked directly at Vernon. "And neither will take kindly to any insults, to themselves, or to me." His uncle began to look belligerent again, so Harry went on in a tone that brooked no argument. "This isn't open for discussion. They'll be here in the morning. Just stay out of our way, and we'll stay out of yours."

Petunia opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by a thump and a series loud meows coming from the backyard.

"What the…" Harry muttered, getting to his feet and pulling out his wand. "Stay here," he told the Dursleys, then walked cautiously towards the back door, which had a window.

He pulled the curtain a little aside and scanned the yard for signs of danger. All he saw through the gloom were two large shadows on the ground outside. Harry frowned as the smaller of the shadows rocked from side to side and the continuous meows increased in volume. Harry reached over to his right and flipped a switch, turning on the back porch light. As soon as he saw what the shadows were, he flung open the door and ran outside.

"Crookshanks?!" He dropped to his knees beside the carrier, which appeared to have fallen off of the trunk and landed on its side on the ground. "Crookshanks, what are you doing here?! Where's Hermione?!" Harry asked, though he knew he wouldn't be answered.

He righted the carrier and opened to door. Crookshanks jumped out and shook himself, then turned to look at Harry. Harry had the oddest feeling that the huge cat was trying to tell him something, but before he could figure out what it was, he heard the familiar popping sound that accompanied apperation. In an instant, he turned towards the noise, wand at the ready, only to drop it as Crookshanks pounced, landing heavily on his right shoulder. The cat then darted off towards a crumpled heap lying a on the ground where Harry had been pointing his wand.

Harry squinted into the darkness, and upon recognising that unmistakeable head of bushy brown hair, scrambled over.

"Hermione? Hermione!" He reached her side and pulled the hair back from her face.

"Harry?" she blinked up at him. "What are you doing here?"

Harry laughed a little, relieved that she was alive. "I should be asking you that. You're laying in my backyard…" His eyes ran over her torn clothes; the cuts and newly forming bruises, the blood. "Hermione, what happened to you?"

He looked back into her face and saw it slowly fall. She squeezed her eyes shut and then brought up her hand to cover them, shaking her head and beginning to tremble.

"Shhh…" Harry was starting to get really scared now. He stroked her hair gently and wondered what on earth he should do. He finally decided to go with his instincts, as he usually did. "C'mon Hermione," he said softly. "You can't stay there all night. Do you think you can walk?"

Hermione didn't reply. She removed her hand from her face and placed it, along with her other, on the ground, pushing herself up. Harry carefully helped her until she stood, though leaning heavily against him. With a sublime disregard for the laws regarding underage magic, Harry pointed his wand at the trunk and now empty carrier, and levitated them inside the house, leading Hermione slowly behind them.

As they moved inside and passed Vernon and Petunia, who were still standing where he had told them to, Harry leaned towards them. In a tone low enough so that Hermione wouldn't hear, he said, "One harsh word out of either of you and Voldemort will be the least of your worries."

Finally they made it to the living room couch. In the better light, she looked even worse than she had outside; covered in dirt, grime and blood, with bits of wood and grass in her hair. She looked at him where he knelt in front of her.

"I'm alright," she said in a raspy voice. "But…my parents…it was a trap…they're gone, the house is gone…fire…" She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Crookshanks jumped up onto the couch then set one tentative paw on Hermione's knee. She wrapped her arms around the huge cat, pulled him fully onto her lap and buried her face in his thick ginger fur as he purred loudly.

Harry felt his stomach drop. Hermione's parents were dead. It had been a trap for her and it looked as though she had only just gotten away. How had this happened? He had thought that the families of muggle-borns were protected. Then he remembered his own Ministry escort.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," he whispered hoarsely. He reached out and laid a hand gently on her bowed head.

"Harry?"

The sound of his given name in his aunt's voice brought his attention swinging around to her. She stood just behind him, her face still devoid of emotion, but holding out a thick blanket.

"She needs to be kept warm, in case she goes into shock," Petunia told him.

With a nod, Harry took the blanket and shook it out, then wrapped it around his friend.

"Listen, Hermione," he said softly and she lifted her head. "I'm going to write to Ron, ok? Get him, and probably his dad over here. Are you sure you're not seriously hurt? You do have blood on you."

"It's nothing," she told him in a low tone.

"Right," he said doubtfully. "Well, I'll go get Hedwig. I'll be right back, ok?"

She nodded, then lowered her face back to Crookshanks fur.

Sighing, Harry got to his feet again, and quickly headed up to his room. He didn't want to leave Hermione alone with his relatives for longer than absolutely necessary, so he just grabbed writing materials and Hedwig's cage, and hurried back downstairs.

Hermione was just as he'd left her, while Petunia now stood in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. Vernon was nowhere to be seen. Harry set Hedwig's cage on the coffee table and opened the door, then knelt again on the floor and wrote a short and carefully uninformative note to Ron:

_Ron,_

_Something's happened and you and your Dad need to get over to my place, right now. Bring your stuff; I think I'll need you to stay here. Sorry to cut your family time short._

_Harry._

Hedwig, who seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, had hopped out of her cage while he was writing and now stood ready to have the note attached to her leg.

"I really need you to use whatever clever owl tricks you know, Hedwig, and get this to Ron as quick as you can," he told her.

She hooted softly in reply, then flew out of the door, which, amazingly enough, was being held open for her by Petunia. Harry made a mental note to figure out why his aunt was being so helpful and co-operative all of a sudden, before he moved to sit with Hermione on the couch to wait for Ron.

* * *

Thoughtful - instead of horrified - faces now filled the Black House parlour.

"So, Hermione wanted to be somewhere safe, then apperated to Privet Drive?" Sirius asked after a moment.

"I didn't mean to," Hermione explained. "I knew I'd be safe with Harry, so I guess my magic took me to him. I don't think it mattered where he was at the time. Although, come to think of it, if he had been in the house, instead of out in the backyard, there might have been a problem due to the anti-apperation wards."

Ron shrugged. "Not that it matters. It wasn't the first time luck saved one of us, and it definitely wasn't the last." Harry and Hermione nodded in agreement. "Anyway, I had gone back to the Burrow with my family," Ron said, picking up the story. "We'd had dinner and I had that talk with Fred and George about who they sell their products to. They hadn't known that Malfoy had used their stuff for the attack. When I told them, Fred got kind of defensive about it, but I could tell that they were both really shaken. George told me later that they were going to start including a 14 day waiting period and background check on a lot of their inventory.

"After that, I got Mum and Dad to sit down with me at the kitchen table, and I was somewhere in the middle of explaining about us not going back to school, when Hedwig arrived…"

* * *

Ron was cut off mid-argument by a loud tapping at the window. His father, very security-conscious these days, pulled his wand immediately, motioning for his wife and son to do the same. Ron looked out the window. 

"Dad, it's just Hedwig-"

Arthur stopped him with a raised hand and insisted that they needed to be sure. He went to another window, pointed his wand through it, and murmured a spell under his breath. The yard outside lit up, bright as day for a minute, then slowly dimmed, giving Arthur time to scan for attackers attempting to hide in the darkness.

Ron stared at his father. "That was wicked, Dad. You have to teach that to us before we leave."

Arthur smiled a little, saying, "You can let Hedwig in now if you want."

"Right," Ron said, moving to the window. He knew that Harry wouldn't be writing to him now unless it was really important. They were going to see each other the next day after all.

Hedwig flew off as soon as the note was removed from her leg, obviously not expecting to have to carry back a reply. This made Ron frown as he opened the note.

"Dad, we have to go," he said, as soon as he'd finished reading.

"What, right now?" Arthur's eyes widened. "I thought you said you three weren't leaving until after the wedding?" He and Molly were now following Ron as he ran up the stairs to his room.

"No," Ron said, as he hauled his still packed trunk up onto his bed. He handed the letter to his parents, then started pulling all of the things he wouldn't be needing (school robes and such) out of his trunk and replacing them with things from around the room that he wanted to take with him.

Molly and Arthur had both read the note from Harry. "It must be important if he asked specifically for your father," Molly said. "Maybe he needs to get in touch with the Ministry?" she wondered aloud.

"Yeah, maybe," Ron answered, shutting his trunk, having unpacked and repacked it in record time. He picked up it and turned to face his parents. "He said we're needed there now. Can we apperate?"

"You can side-along apperate with me and I'll send the trunks ahead of us," Arthur answered.

The three of them made their way back downstairs and out to the front of the house. Ron put down his trunk and Arthur used his wand to send it to Privet Drive, as Hermione had done with hers.

Molly seemed to understand that Ron was leaving, and that nothing she said or did would stop him. The last thing she wanted was for him to put himself in danger, but, as the family clock that she now carried around with her everywhere told her, with the war raging, they were all in danger already. She pulled him into a tight hug, which – in a measure of how serious the situation was – he returned, then spoke to her husband.

"Let me know what's happened as soon as you can," she said.

"I will." He hugged her briefly, before stepping back and telling Ron to take hold of his arm.

They arrived an uncomfortable moment later, beside Ron's trunk in the Dursley's backyard. Ron picked up the trunk and they headed for the back door, which was opened before they got there by Harry's aunt Petunia.

"They're in the living room," she told them coldly. "I'm sure you remember where that is." She closed the door behind them, then disappeared down the hall.

Ron was confused by the word 'they're'. He wondered who else was here, but wasted no time trying to figure it out. Instead, he and his Dad headed straight for the living room.

* * *

Ron was interrupted by the parlour door opening to admit Neville. Having become very engrossed in the story, McGonagall frowned impatiently at him, momentarily forgetting that she was a guest in his home. The newcomer visibly shrank back from her obvious annoyance, and the trio exchanged amused glances at the mutual thought that Neville had stood firm in the face of Voldemort's armies, but still could not hold his ground against the disapproval of his former Head of House.

"Sorry if I'm intruding," he said. "I just got in from work."

Harry looked at the mantle clock. "Wow, is that the time?" He looked back at their three guests. "Would you all like to stay for dinner? The others should be home soon and we can talk more after?" he invited.

Ginny and Luna came home while Harry was making dinner and they all sat down to eat in the slightly more formal, but still just as comfortable, setting of the dining room.

Sirius looked around the table and thought that he would ask a few general questions that he had been wondering about. He just hoped he wouldn't unknowingly poke any sore spots.

"So, when did the war end?" he said.

"About two years ago now, though it seems longer." Remus answered. "The world has changed a lot in a short time."

"Yeah, so I figured." Sirius said. "About that…I'm allowed out of the house now, aren't I? I mean, everyone knows I'm innocent now?"

"Yes," Tonks replied. As an Auror, she had been in the best position of any of them, to know what had happened at the Ministry after Sirius' 'death'. "The Ministry accepted that they'd made a mistake after the skirmish in the Department of Mysteries. But they had to accept that they'd made a _lot_ of mistakes that night, so the issue of your innocence kind of got buried under everything else. Truth is, they tried not to make a big deal about it. If you hadn't died-" (Hermione cleared her throat pointedly) "Er…_disappeared_, they would have been forced to make a big announcement, and provide compensation and all that. As it was, you were gone and they _really_ didn't want to draw attention to another embarrassment."

"Harry wouldn't have that though," Ginny smiled at her former boyfriend. "Sixth year was so crazy – everything was falling apart – and we never really knew the details about what the Ministry had done regarding your false imprisonment. Once Harry got to talking to people outside school about you, he found out that they had tried to sweep it under the rug."

Ron nodded. "Obviously things didn't get any less crazy for us after we left school, but during Hogwarts…the Battle of, that is…we captured Pettigrew, and Harry made sure he got a public trial afterwards. Everything came out."

"So, yeah," Tonks concluded. "You're free to go wherever you want. Although, we should maybe put an announcement in the papers or something…you know, so people don't see you and think that Inferi are walking among us again."

The others sniggered. The war was far enough behind them now, that they could joke about it in this way.

"In a slight change of subject," Sirius continued his questioning. "Where are Dobby and Winky? I thought you said that they live here, but I've barely seen them."

"They do live here," Luna said. "But they don't work here really. They would be bored here since we clean up after ourselves, _mostly_" (a pointed look at Ron, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat) "and generally speaking, we aren't here that much anyway. We all have our jobs. Dobby and Winky still work at the school. The poor Castle took a terrible beating during the battle and the repairs are still underway."

"But it's been two years," Sirius frowned. "Shouldn't any repairs be completed by now?"

"Such extensive magical damage," McGonagall explained. "To a building already heavily infused with magic…" The professor shook her head. "Most of the labour must be done by hand, while the base spell work is repaired. I had no idea until now, how much effort building the castle from scratch must have taken for the Founders."

Remus nodded. "In any event, the school is open again, but only certain areas are in use while the rest is being restored."

"And even then," Luna added. "Only time will settle her in again after the upheaval. Just like the rest of us"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, while the others nodded in agreement.

hphphp

Due to the lengthy conversation – helping to fill in blanks for Sirius, but mostly just general chatter – the group finished dinner later than they anticipated. It was decided that their guests would return to their homes and come back at ten o'clock the next morning. The trio would continue the story then, and since the next day was Saturday, Luna, Ginny and Neville would be there to help. Once McGonagall, Remus and Tonks were gone, everyone – still suffering to varying degrees from the previous late night – said their goodnights and headed to bed.

A/N: So, there it is. This chapter was turning into a bit of a monster, so I'm sorry if the end seems a little abrupt.

_Committo Laqueus_ Intruder trap, according to the InterTran translation web site. Unfortunately, the site wouldn't translate the word, 'Booby'

As always, I'd love to hear what you think.


	7. Plan A

Author's Note: So very, very, very, very sorry that this took me so long. The insanity of moving and Christmas and New Years is finally behind me, so hopefully these updates won't be so long in coming again. If I have any readers left after so long, I hope you think the wait was worth it :) Thanks to all those who read and review. You guys rock and you deserve way better than me ;)

Disclaimer: You know the drill...own nothing...earning nothing...blah blah...blah blah.

War Stories

_**Chapter 6 **Plan A_

Hermione opened her eyes sleepily at the sound of her bedside alarm going off for the fourth time. She looked over at it, strongly tempted to hit the 'snooze' button again. Finally she just sighed and turned it off, then pulled aside the covers and climbed sluggishly out of the bed.

Ordinarily, Hermione would never have allowed her alarm to sound four times before getting up, but since performing the complex spells to retrieve Sirius, she seemed to need a lot of sleep. With another tired sigh, she headed for the bathroom, hoping that a quick shower would help to wake her up.

hphphp

Washed and dressed, Hermione went downstairs and found Ginny sitting alone at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of tea.

"Morning," Hermione smiled.

"Hey, how'd you sleep?" Ginny asked, noticing how tired her friend looked.

"Fine," she answered, her smile turning rueful. "It just doesn't seem to have been for long enough." She came to sit down beside Ginny and laid her head on her folded arms on the table.

Ginny frowned. Hermione had never been athletic in the conventional way, as Harry and Ron were, but she had always radiated a sense of life and energy – usually focused on the pursuit of knowledge. It troubled the younger witch to see her best friend looking so drained.

"Hermione, what exactly did it take for you to get Sirius back?" she voiced the question that had worried her since she had first heard the very brief explanation for the man's sudden return.

"Ah…" Hermione raised her head. "Well, that's a big question, Ginny. To be honest, I really don't have the energy to get into it right now. Ask me again in a week and I'll go through it all with you then, alright?" With an apologetic smile, she lowered her head to her folded arms again.

Ginny reached out and stroked Hermione's hair gently. "Are you sure you're ok?" she asked, seriously concerned.

Hearing Ginny's worried tone, Hermione sat up straight and made an effort to look more alert. "I'm fine, really," she smiled. "Just tired. I'll be right as rain in no time, I promise."

Ginny wasn't entirely satisfied, but she decided to let it go for the moment and just keep a quiet eye on Hermione, to make sure she was alright.

Hermione saw Ginny relax slightly, apparently accepting her reassurance, and thought that it was time to change the subject. "So, how is work? We haven't really had a chance to talk since I got back," she said.

"Well-" Ginny began, but broke off as the kitchen door opened.

"Morning," Sirius greeted them.

"Morning," Ginny smiled, while Hermione gave a small, friendly wave.

Sirius smiled at Hermione, before his gaze came to rest on Ginny. This was the first time he had really looked at her since his return; before now, he had always been too wrapped up in various conversations to consider how the girl had changed. He saw now, that she had not changed all that much. She was tall –perhaps four or five inches taller than Hermione – and with no scars (that Sirius could see, at least), she was beautiful. This was unsurprising, since she had always had that potential.

Wondering, in a vague and oddly paternal sort of way, if she had a boyfriend – since he was fairly sure that she and Harry weren't together – Sirius sat at the table opposite the girls. "Sorry," he said. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Just catching up after the month I missed," Hermione smiled. She turned back to Ginny, who explained to Sirius.

"I'm training to be a healer at St. Mungo's," she said. "A lot of us – a lot of people who fought in the war, that is – went through really basic field medical training, but it all seemed to come really easily to me. And after Hogwarts-"

"The battle?" Sirius clarified.

"Yeah," she nodded. "After that…I don't know. I guess I wanted to learn how to fix people, instead of blowing them apart for a change."

"So, how is it going?" Hermione asked, coming back to her original question.

"All good," Ginny answered. "Except that Bulstrode woman is getting on my nerves, as usual."

Hermione laughed. "Millicent isn't _that_ bad, Ginny. She's actually really nice. You just don't like her because of that thing in your sixth year."

"I still don't know how you can like her now." Ginny shook her head. "You two hated each other with a fiery vengeance at school."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "That was nothing. We didn't even really know each other."

"Nothing?" The younger witch looked amused. "She had you pinned to a wall in Umbridge's office. And didn't she also have you in a headlock in Lockhart's duelling club that one time?"

"That was years ago. Honestly, everyone makes such a fuss!" Hermione said in an exasperated voice, as Sirius' shoulders shook with laughter.

He was about to ask exactly what 'that thing in Ginny's sixth year' was, when the kitchen door opened again. Neville walked in, with Luna wandering a few steps behind him.

"Morning," he said.

"Hi, guys," Ginny answered for the group.

"Listen," Sirius said after a moment, gaining everyone's attention. "Ginny, Hermione, I wanted to thank you for trying to save me that night in the Department of Mysteries. And Luna and Neville," he turned to where they were now sitting beside Hermione. "I especially wanted to thank the two of you. Neither of you even knew me, but you came to help me anyway. I'm glad that Harry has you both as his friends."

Neville had gone slightly red in the face at Sirius' words. He had always blamed himself a little for the events of that disastrous night. He had been the only student besides Harry to be present when Sirius had fallen through the Veil, and a small part of him had always wondered if there had been anything else that he could have done to help.

Meanwhile, Luna just smiled her vague smile, and said, "You're very welcome, Stubb…er…_Sirius_. I'm sorry you died."

Sirius smiled. Luna was definitely one of the strangest people he had ever met, but he had to admit, he liked her. A moment later, Harry and Ron arrived in the kitchen and took seats around the table.

Harry looked around. "Are Dobby and Winky working today?" he asked.

"No, Harry Potter, sir," came a squeaky voice from the corner. Everyone smiled over at the two house elves that had just appeared.

"Hello," Hermione greeted them. "How is work on the castle coming?"

"Very well, thank you, Miss Hermy," Dobby beamed at her.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at Hermione and mouthed 'Hermy?'. She just narrowed her eyes at him as the others tried to suppress grins. Harry quickly transformed his laugh into a cough, then turned to the house elves, who were climbing onto the two remaining chairs.

"So, do you guys have time to eat breakfast with us?" he asked them.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Harry," Winky squeaked. "Would you like that Winky and Dobby should prepare something, sir?"

Harry smiled. In the first months of living in Grimmauld Place, he and the others had all tried hard to convince the house elves to call them by only their given names. Finally even Hermione had given up the argument as a lost cause, the best compromise they had managed to reach being a 'mister' or 'miss' before their names, and only the occasional 'sir'.

"That's alright," Harry answered. "You two work hard enough at the school." He looked around at his makeshift family, saying, "Has anyone eaten yet?" At the sight of eight heads shaking, he nodded to himself and pointed his wand over his shoulder, causing cooking implements to jump into action.

Soon breakfast was ready and the group ate in companionable silence, until Sirius, looking around at the occupants of the table, asked, "So, um, not to ask a stupid question, but why do you all live together?" Everyone looked at him. Worried that he had somehow insulted them, he hurriedly said, "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I just would have thought that you would want your own places…" He decided to stop himself, before he managed to jam his foot any further down his throat.

Hermione smiled, trying to ease Sirius' discomfort. "Well, it's because we have to. It's sort of the law now," she tried to explain. "You see, after Tom Riddle was stopped the first time, when Harry was a baby, everyone celebrated. With people in such high spirits, the reconstruction was fairly easily accomplished; everyone was just so happy to be able to rebuild their lives. Very few believed – or wanted to believe – that Riddle could possibly return."

"All those Death Eaters wanting to prove their loyalty to the Ministry helped a lot with the rebuilding, too," Ron interjected darkly.

Neville nodded. "This time though, it was different. After Riddle was destroyed, it took a lot of convincing to get people to accept that he was really gone, and even then, everyone was afraid that a new Dark Lord would rise up in his place. You can imagine how little reconstruction work was getting done in that atmosphere."

"Harry, Ron and Hermione – the three of them, together – had become a symbol for hope and safety during the war," Ginny contributed. "So, in the end, Scrimgeour preposed a new law, forcing them to stay together."

At the sight of Sirius' incredulous expression, Harry smiled ruefully. "Yeah, that was pretty much our first reaction when he came to tell us. But he gave us a couple of days to think it over. Obviously he needed our cooperation for the law to work." He shrugged. "We talked about it and decided that it really wasn't that much of an issue. I mean, we'd basically lived together off and on since first year, and we almost never left each other's side after we left school, so what's the difference, right?"

Sirius looked doubtful. "I don't know," he said slowly. "Maybe it's just the twelve years of curtailed freedom talking, but I think I would have resented some guy – even the Minister of Magic…or especially him – dictating who I could live with. And him doing it right after you three helped to save the world…" he trailed of uncertainly.

Ron grinned. "Don't worry. We definitely didn't let Scrimgeour lay down all the terms and conditions. All we agreed to was living in the same location, and we made sure that that's all the 'Guardian Law' would stipulate. That means we choose _where_ we live, we can all have separate jobs and go on separate holidays. We aren't joined at the hip or anything. We can do whatever we want, as long as we can all call the same place home."

"Anyway," Neville picked up the explanation. "As soon as the law was made public, everyone seemed to feel safe again. There were no arguments, or even celebrations; people just nodded as though everything was exactly as it should be, and said things like, 'well, it's about time the Ministry did something right', before getting down to work on the restoration. It was uncanny."

"Huh," Sirius responded, trying to take it all in. After a moment, he said, "Alright, so I get why Harry, Ron and Hermione live together. But why do you guys" (he indicated Ginny, Luna and Neville with the fork in his hand) "live here, too? Were you included in the law?"

"No," Ginny laughed. "We're here to stop the heroes of the wizarding world from killing each other."

At Sirius' confused look, Harry explained with a smile. "Ron, Hermione and I, love each other dearly, don't misread. But really, we were still so raw from two years of fighting, we needed other company or we'd have been snapping each others' heads off within a fortnight." Ron and Hermione smiled ruefully, and nodded in complete agreement.

"Besides," Luna said. "Ronald fell in love with me."

Everyone smirked at Ron. Sirius, who expected the young man to flush red and sink into his chair with a sheepish expression, was surprised to see that Ron merely smiled, shrugged slightly, and said, "She's not wrong."

They all laughed and Sirius was about to speak when the kitchen grate blazed into green life, Professor McGonagall's head appearing in it a moment later.

"Good morning," she greeted them, then asked sternly. "Not continuing the story without me, are you?"

"No, Professor," Hermione smiled. "We were just explaining why we all live together."

"Good," McGonagall said. "We'll be through in just a moment." Her head disappeared from the flames before any of them could ask what exactly she had meant by 'we'll'.

They weren't left wondering about it very long however. McGonagall climbed out of the fire a few seconds later, stepping politely aside for the diminutive figure of Flitwick, then scurrying – along with everyone else – out of the way of the enormous figure of Hagrid, as both men followed.

Luna, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, having been sitting the closest to the kitchen door, quickly escaped the threat of being trampled in the confusion by slipping out into the hall. Turning back, they grinned and watched through the open doorway as Sirius was greeted breathlessly by Flitwick, and with bruising enthusiasm by Hagrid. The four of them were the only ones to hear the knock at the front door. Ginny winked at the others and went to let Remus and Tonks in.

A chaotic ten minutes later, the breakfast dishes were cleared, the parlour was rearranged to accommodate everybody, and they were all settled comfortably for the next instalment of the narrative, entitled by Ron as 'What Sirius Missed'.

Once again, Harry, Ron and Hermione had chosen to sit together on one of the couches. Harry looked around the room, before his eyes rested on Professor McGonagall and he smiled slightly. "Our audience just keeps growing and growing, doesn't it?"

McGonagall had the grace to look shamefaced, but only a very little. "Both Professors Flitwick and Hagrid were present when you gave your 'overview' of your post-school activities."

"We are both very interested in hearing a full account of your exploits, Harry," Flitwick said in his squeaky voice.

"Professor McGonagall told us wha' you told her, Harry. We'd like to stay, if tha's alrigh'?" Hagrid added from his magically enlarged armchair.

Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, who nodded slightly. He turned back to Hagrid and Flitwick, saying, "It's fine. If you're both up to date with the story so far, we'll get started. Er…where were we?" he asked the group.

"We had reached the point when Ron and his father were about to enter the Dursley's living room," McGonagall reminded him, leaning forward a little in her chair.

"Right," Harry nodded. "Well, Ron and his dad came in. We all seemed to freeze for a second, then Ron dropped his trunk and ran over to us, asking what had happened. Now, I'd done some thinking while I was sitting with Hermione, and I thought that it might be better for her if she only had to explain about what had happened once. So, I just told Ron and Mr Weasley that Hermione's house had been attacked, then asked Mr Weasley if he could contact you." Harry nodded in Professor McGonagall's direction.

"Yeah," Ron picked up the story. "Harry wanted to know if you could be contacted quietly, so that the Death Eaters wouldn't know where Hermione was. You know, in case they came after her. Dad just nodded and said he'd be back in a minute, then headed back out to the yard."

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. Arthur got a hold of me, saying that I was needed in Privet Drive, but nothing specific," she said, mostly for Sirius' benefit.

"The two of you arrived at the house a few minutes later," Hermione spoke quietly. "I gave you both a basic statement about what happened. I know that I should probably have been more thorough, but it was still too fresh and I didn't really want to force those horrible images into your minds. It was bad enough that I had them in mine.

"Anyway, after that, Harry suggested that maybe I'd like to get cleaned up…"

* * *

"But what about all of you?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron softly. "What are you going to do?" 

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, then squeezed her hand and said, "I don't know yet. But we'll talk about it with Ron's Dad and McGonagall. You've been through a lot. Please, let us take care of this for now? Can you trust us to do that?"

Hermione looked into both boys' eyes and saw their concern for her. She knew that she could depend on them now, and that they wouldn't let her down. Her shoulders drooped slightly in exhaustion and she nodded.

The trio looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway, between the living room and the hall. Harry's aunt, Petunia, was standing there, and Hermione had the vague feeling that she had been for some time.

"The bathroom is upstairs," Petunia said in a neutral tone. "I'll come with you if you'd like. You might need some help."

Hermione looked at Harry. He was staring intently at his aunt with slightly narrowed eyes. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision and looked back at Hermione, giving her a reassuring nod.

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly to Petunia, and stepped towards the door. She looked back at her friends once, before following the older woman slowly up the stairs.

Neither spoke until they reached the bathroom and Petunia said, "I'll help you remove your clothes, then you can have a shower and I'll be back with clean things when you're done, if you think you're up to it?"

Hermione nodded and soon she stood beneath the hot water, watching as it mingled with the blood on her skin, turning it red before it swirled down the drain. An odd sort of numbness had settled over her by now and she was grateful for it; it allowed her to scrub her body clean of blood and grime while she barely felt the sting of the bruises and still open cuts.

There was a knock on the bathroom door and in what seemed like no time, Hermione was sitting on the bench next to the sink in her underwear, as Harry's aunt used supplies from a first-aid kit that she had brought, to clean and dress her various wounds. Hermione watched her work with detached interest, until the older woman looked up.

"I suppose you're wondering why I'm helping you. I'm sure you've heard enough stories about us from the boy to make you wonder," Petunia said flatly.

Hermione, who hadn't actually been wondering anything of the sort, continued to watch her silently.

"Well," Harry's aunt said after a moment. "I don't hate the boy any less, so don't even think it. I heard what you told the others, about your house." Her voice was gradually losing its lack of expression as she spoke a little faster. "I…I can relate. I was the one the police called when those freaks attacked _my_ parents' home, because my freak of a sister was with that freak of a husband, and getting involved in all sorts of things that they should have stayed well out of!"

Petunia had to stop at this point and take several deep breaths. Hermione remained quiet.

After a moment, Petunia went on in a calmer tone. "My mother and father weren't even allowed a proper funeral; some abnormal nonsense about such an event being the perfect opportunity to ambush Lily and James. So, I was left to deal with everything alone. Not that that surprised me; I was always left to deal with the real problems, while she was gallivanting about with _that_ lot." Petunia fell silent as she wrapped the last bandage around Hermione's left upper arm. When she was finished, she stood up straight and said, in the same flat tone as before, "Some of these cuts could probably do with a few stitches, but this is the best I can do with what I have."

Hermione looked down at herself. Her exposed skin was now patched with bandages of varying sizes, stuck in place with medical tape. In addition to the bandage around her arm, there was also another around her right ankle.

"Thank you," the witch said quietly.

Petunia nodded. "I brought your pyjamas from your trunk. I'll help you put them on, then you should lay down. You can use Dudley's room…"

* * *

In the parlour of Black House, Hermione gasped slightly and turned to Harry.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she said. "I should have left it up to you to share those things if you wanted to."

Harry and Ron had taken supportive hold of her hands again as she spoke. Now Harry squeezed the one that he held.

"It's fine," he said reassuringly, before turning to the others. "Petunia never talked about any of this to me, but from what she told Hermione, we figured the reason she hated my mother so much at first, was that she felt abandoned. From her perspective, her sister just left her to deal with all the 'real world' problems on her own. Then their parents were killed in an attack. We looked into it, and found out that the Evans' house was hit because Riddle thought that my parents were there…which they _were_, but they got called away before the Death Eaters showed up. Of cause, you probably already know most of this, Sirius."

His godfather nodded. "I never knew much about Lily's life outside magic," he said. "But James told me about the attack on her parents' place." He frowned, and added, "Actually, after I was arrested, everyone thought it was _me_ who told Voldemort the Potters would be there."

"It was Wormtail," Remus told Sirius. "That was one of the things he confessed to during his trial."

Sirius, who had already deduced as much, shrugged one shoulder and turned back to Harry, who spoke.

"Anyway, obviously Petunia blamed my Mum and Dad for the attack. She knew that they had been the real targets," he concluded.

There was a moment of thoughtful silence, then Remus asked with a slight frown, "So, why did you let your aunt take care of Hermione? You knew she hated you, and probably everything related to magic. Weren't you worried she'd say something upsetting?"

"Of cause, I was worried," Harry replied, frowning in thought. "But…I don't know. She looked at Hermione and in her eyes I saw…sympathy, I guess. I just knew that I could trust her, even if it was just that once.

"Anyway," he sighed. "After Hermione went upstairs with Petunia, we all sat down again, to talk about what should be done…"

* * *

"Well," Professor McGonagall said as she lowered herself wearily to the sofa. "Miss Granger will obviously need to go and make a statement for the Ministry-" 

She was cut off by Ron, who said unexpectedly, "No."

McGonagall frowned at him. "This incident needs to be reported, Mister Weasley. A formal statement is necessary-"

"No," Ron interrupted again. He turned and spoke mainly to Harry. "They set a trap for her, right? They probably think she's dead, and as long as they do, she'll be safe – or as safe as anyone _can_ be now - and we'll have the advantage." He gestured between them with his hand.

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Ron glanced at his father, but again directed his words to his best mate. "Do you think it's a coincidence that they went after Hermione first? Voldemort-" (he shot an impatient frown at Arthur and McGonagall, who had both winced reflexively at the name) "-must know that Dumbledore was planning something, and by now he probably knows that you were involved, too. He must also know that Hermione and I will be right there with you. Honestly, of the two of us, who is going to be the bigger help to you're mission? Certified-Genius-Hermione, or jealous, spider-fearing, wand-breaking Ron?"

Harry was surprised by Ron's matter-of-fact and not very flattering description of himself. He just opened his mouth to argue that Ron wasn't giving himself enough credit, when his friend shook his head.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not fishing for compliments here. I'm just telling it like they think it is. Whichever way you look at it, Hermione is a huge asset to our side. Naturally, they tried to get her out of the way and right now, they probably think they succeeded. As long as they do, they'll underestimate us."

There was a short silence, before McGonagall spoke. "Well," she said. "I had no idea you had raised such a master strategist, Arthur."

Ron's dad gave a rueful laugh and said, "You should try opposing him in a game of chess."

Ron was watching Harry's face. He apparently saw that his best mate wasn't entirely convinced, because he asked, "What have I missed?"

Harry frowned. "You're saying that we should pretend that Hermione died in the attack-"

"So that she'll be safe," Ron hurriedly clarified.

"Right. And so that she can keep helping me with the mission." Harry was unwilling to be more specific with Arthur and McGonagall in the room. "But, Ron, what if Hermione doesn't want to be a part of the mission after this?"

Ron's eyes widened. He obviously hadn't considered the possibility that Hermione might want no part of a war that had cost her parents their lives. Deep down, Harry didn't really believe that she would back out of helping him, but he also knew how loss could change a person, and tonight, Hermione had lost almost everything she had.

After a moment of thought, Ron said decisively, "I don't think it'll come to that, but if she really doesn't want to stay with us, then we should still make them think she's dead; she'll still be safest that way."

Harry finally nodded his agreement, then turned towards Arthur and McGonagall, both of whom were looking at Ron with a varying mixture of admiration and pride.

"So," he said to the professor. "Do you know if the school will reopen, yet?"

McGonagall shook her head. "The staff presented our arguments as best we could. The Governors are still deliberating, but I expect them to come to a decision by tomorrow." She gave Harry and Ron a shrewd look. "Would I be right in thinking that the three of you were not planning on returning to Hogwarts, regardless of whether or not it reopens?"

Arthur, having already been told of the trio's plan not to return, remained silent. The boys shared a look, before Harry spoke.

"We won't be going back," he said, deliberately unexpansive.

"Yes, I didn't think you would be." The witch didn't appear well pleased. "Can I assume the reason has something to do with what you and Dumbledore were doing?"

Harry just looked at her, not saying anything. He thought that she had heard more than enough already. Ron seemed to agree, because he decided to change the subject.

"We need to decide who's allowed to know that Hermione is still alive," he said.

As subject changes go, Harry thought, this was abrupt, but effective.

"Nobody outside this house," McGonagall said immediately.

"Minerva," Arthur frowned. "I can't let Molly think that Hermione is dead. You can imagine how badly she would take that; she considers Hermione to be part of the family. Ginny would be devastated, too."

Ron was nodding. "Dad's right. I don't think Hermione would want to put them through that. But could they be convincing, pretending she's dead?"

"They'd need to keep up the show all the time," Harry added, noticing – not for the first time – how unemotional Ron could be, when it came to strategy. "We never know who might be watching."

"Which is precisely why no one else should be told," McGonagall argued. "Do you really want to burden them with the responsibility of maintaining this performance?"

There was a slight pause, before Harry said firmly, "We shouldn't do anything tonight. We should wait until we can speak to Hermione about it. It's her life on the line, after all." He looked directly at the professor. "We won't report the attack to the Ministry either; it would only raise questions about how we knew. Besides, from what Hermione said, the house was pretty much destroyed, so one of the neighbours is bound to have called the police by now. The Aurors are probably already there, modifying memories and spreading some story about a gas explosion or something."

Neither Arthur nor McGonagall looked convinced, but they chose not to argue.

"I'll stay here tonight, obviously," Ron said. "We'll contact you in the morning, once we've had a chance to talk to Hermione."

"And I get the _Prophet_ delivered," Harry added. "We'll see what the Ministry has to say about the attack in tomorrow's paper, and we'll go from there."

Recognising that the discussion was at an end, the group rose to their feet. Harry turned in time to see Crookshanks slinking out of the room. He frowned slightly, having thought that the huge cat had accompanied Hermione upstairs. But then, he reflected, if Crookshanks really was as smart as Harry had reason to believe he was, there would be no reason for him _not_ to listen in on the meeting. He shrugged it off, and went to say goodbye to Arthur and McGonagall.

When the older witch and wizard were gone, Harry and Ron stood silently; each trying to prepare, in their own way, for what was to come. Almost in unison, they both heaved a sigh. Then, exchanging glances, they headed towards the stairs and-"

* * *

Harry was interrupted by the sound of a stomach growling loudly with hunger. The majority of the room turned to look at Ron.

"What?" he said, shrugging. "Wasn't me."

Very slowly, Professor Flitwick raised his hand. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I was so involved in the story, I didn't realise how hungry I was."

"I understand completely," Tonks sympathised. "Where's lunch? I'm eating for two over here." She grinned winningly at her hosts.

Everyone laughed and Harry performed his trademark wand wave in the general direction of the kitchen. They all tacitly decided to leave off on the narrative until after lunch, and settled down to enjoy the good food and great company.

A/N: Well, that's that then. It was some horrific hour of the morning when I finished and proof-read this chapter, so I hope you'll forgive any glaring errors.

Reviewing is good for the soul...ask anybody :)


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